


In Hell He Reigns (ON HIATUS)

by VesselOfLucifer (FayTheGay)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Wings, Angst, Apocalypse world, Dark, Female Gabriel (Supernatural), Gen, Heaven, Hell, Nephilim, On Hiatus, POV Dean Winchester, POV Jack Kline, POV Lucifer, POV Sam Winchester, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-09-27 11:15:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17160995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FayTheGay/pseuds/VesselOfLucifer
Summary: After he's born, Jack takes off after being shot by Dean. He's found by his aunt who has big plans for him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been having a really hard time finding motivation for this fic so I'm officially labeling it a hiatus fic until I can figure out what to do with it. Sorry to anyone that's read it but I hope officially labeling it as on hiatus will at least give you some sort of peace of mind.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a bad encounter with Dean, Jack flies off only to be found by his aunt who wants to help him.

The air was thick with tension as Sam stepped through the doorway that led to where Kelly Kline had created a nursery for her unborn child. None of the lights in the house were functional and when he went through the doorway he was met by glowing golden eyes lurking in the corner.

Not an infant, but not an adult. The male in the back corner of the room couldn’t physically be any older than twenty. Something brushed in the corner of his vision, a familiar dark shadow that appeared and disappeared in a single moment. _Wings_.

“Father?”

When the nephilim stood he took a reflexive step back. The boy looked an awful lot more like Cas than Lucifer which made him sick to his stomach. Cas was dead and- Lucifer was gone.

 _Mom_.

“No, no no.” He started carefully, Lucifer’s face flashing in his vision. “No. I’m not your father, Jack. It is Jack, right?” The question fell flat between them when Jack spoke again.

“Father.”

The downstairs door opened and a footsteps thudded up the stairs.

“Sam? Sammy?” Dean called out and without taking his eyes off of Jack.

“I’m in here.”

The moment Dean came through the door there was a clicking of a gun and everything seemed to freeze, for one, single instant.

“No!” A sharp sound ripped through the air, a rush of painfully familiar energy rushed through him then blackness engulfed him.

 

*** • * • * • * • ***

 

“Where the hell did he go!” Dean was yelling, whipping his head around at the empty nursery. Sam was certain he’d passed out but he was still standing exactly where he had been a few seconds ago. Had it only been a few seconds? It felt like longer… something flickered through his mind… a bad memory. Shivering, he shoved it deep down as Dean continued on, “Did he fly? Can he fly?”

“He has wings,” Sam answered, brain kicking into _hunt_ mode as he bolted for the window where he peered down into the empty area around the cabin. All he saw was Cas, wings ashes burned into the ground.

_Bring him back. Please, Chuck. Save him and mom… give them back. Please…_

“You saw them?”

“Just the shadows. Dean, we’ll deal with it but… Cas.”

“I know,” His brother answered, tension clouding his voice. “We’ll worry about it later. Lucifer’s kid’s gone, Sam.”

“Yeah, and he flew. Look, Dean… I get it. You want to jump into this but we aren’t _equipped_ to deal with any of this yet. We can track him down but we’ve got to- we need to take care of Cas...“

“We’ll deal with it later.” _Damn it._ His brother was shut down and he knew from way too much experience that it wasn’t going to be an easy thing to resolve. Not for a while.

“We aren’t going to be able to drive after the kid, we don’t even know where he went.”

“We’ll find him.” His brother scowled.

“Yeah, but we need to…” Silence fell heavy between them and neither brother spoke a word as the initial rallied demeanor of Dean faded into something else. “We can’t find him right away, Dean.”

“If we don’t, he’s going to kill someone.”

“We don’t know that. He seemed… harmless- until you shot him.”

“He’s the devil’s kid and he’s the whole reason that-” Scowling, Dean turned his back and stormed out of the room without another word.

 _Cas is dead_. His brain finished his brother’s unspoken sentence, the weight settling heavy in the air. In the past, they hadn’t seen the wings, the clear indentions in the ground. Excluding the time Lucifer slaughtered him… there’d never been undeniable proof, never a body to burn. Now, though… now it was different. A body, wings burned into the ground…

He didn’t want to go downstairs anymore than his brother did. If he did, it would break that ever so faint illusion that maybe he wasn’t dead.

_Chuck, please. Just this one miracle. Give him back._

Except God had bailed and they were there. Cas was… dead.

But he’d come back so many times… maybe he’d come back from this. There had to be faith that he would because without it… no, he wouldn’t think about that. Cas always came back, body or not. A Hunter’s funeral would be a potential formality while they waited for that phone call, the “where are you?” that would accompany it along with some strange and convoluted string of events that would resolve any doubt either him or Dean would have about the situation.

That was how it needed to happen.

With that in mind, he made his way down the stairs to help Dean do what needed to be done.

What neither of them wanted to do.

 

*** • * • * • * • ***

Thunder cracked a hundred miles away from anyone named Winchester, the spawn of the devil tilted his head, looking around the landscape around him. The sky was dark here, the grass blowing faintly in the wind.

“There you are!” A voice drawled from behind him and his eyebrows scrunched when he saw a glowing creature standing before him.

“Father?” He asked, the light around the being dying down enough to give him a better visual to go with what he was seeing. Semi-bright eyes met his from under pale eyelids, a smile playing on the other person’s mouth.

“No.” They answered, shifting slightly to unfurl large, soft, golden objects from behind them. _Wings_ , his enhanced mind supplied.

They were large, broad, and looked like they would be pleasant to touch. Biting his lip, he tilted his head just enough to look behind himself. His own were nowhere near that large. They were small and sore due to the use of them.

“My name is Gabrielle,” The person before him introduced themself. “I’m your aunt.” Conversations from before his birth wriggled against the foreground of his consciousness. His mother discussing things with Castiel about his father’s family. Gabrielle was one of those names. But it had been associated with the term ‘uncle’. Never aunt. “We need to have a discussion.”

“Where is my father?”

“Don’t worry about Luci, kiddo. Even if he was around, he wouldn’t give a damn about you. Not right now. We’ve got to give you some sense of self before you can meet him.”

“I don’t understand,” The nephilim spoke softly, a frown creasing his expression.

“What’s your name?” Gabrielle asked instead of attempting to explain it to him. Frowning, he scrunched his brow and considered the prospect. Name. His name…

“Jack,” He answered after a moment, remembering the first face he had seen upon his arrival into the world. Not his father… but there was a similarity between his memories of his father. The occasional contact from him while he was growing.

“Man, that’s a boring name.” Gabrielle murmured, shaking their head. “Couldn’t be something cool like Phoenix! Or _Thorn_. _Jack_ , though. Father help me, it’s so dull.”

“I think… it’s the name that my mother gave me.”

“Ah, yeah. Nasty side-effect of nephilim. Need not fear, Jackie. Your momma’s not the only victim of that curse and she’s got a one-way ticket to the pearly gates. Pros of getting knocked up by an angel, one way ticket to Heaven.”

“My name isn’t Jackie.”

“No, but it is far more interesting. Come with me, kid and I’ll show you what you can do if you really use your powers for you. Or you can wander around doing the real-life adaptation of ' _Are You My Mother?_ ' Father edition. The choice is really yours.”

There was a moment where he simply analyzed the being standing before him. They seemed confident, if not unnerved. Emotional distinctions his mother has warned him about. They could be a threat, or they might be a sign of a good ally… she had never been precisely clear on that.

“You’re a newborn, kiddo. Take it from the mother of a horse, things get really nasty really fast when you’re thrown into the world all grown up with basically no knowledge of what the hell is going on.” While he wasn’t certain he trusted the one in front of him, he wanted to imagine that someone related to his father couldn’t be completely harmful. His mother had told him that he deserved to know who his father was, what he was. Who better to learn it from than someone that was related? Maybe Gabrielle could eventually lead him to his father as well. With a hesitant nod, he offered his hand which was taken by the one before him. Fingers wrapped around his and then they were flying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I want to babble about a couple of my headcanons, either read them, or don’t. Your call. Last two lines are reserved for both sides.  
> 
> One, Gabriel survived Lucifer stabbing him in the Elysian Fields. I have _so much_ love for this scene and I think it worked amazingly with the theme of that season. I give major props to the writers for it. Seriously. It’s one of my absolute favorite major character deaths in media. Even if I love my sweet baby boy, I think his sacrifice, in the context of the Apocalypse, was exactly that. A sacrifice for the greater good. That said, following season 5 and the removal of Sam’s sacrifice his sacrifice has less of an impact.
> 
> So yeah. I think the show keeping him dead after all these years does more harm than good, though from a writing standpoint I can understand reluctance to return him as a powered up ally. Same issue with Chuck in post-11. They’re Deus Ex's that can ruin a carefully planned story. Archangels (and God) are simply _too_ powerful.
> 
> Now, why am I rambling about this? Because I am making a point. My point is that he _can_ return without it breaking the flow. He’s the right kind of character to be evasively helpful. Which is what they did in 13….... until they didn’t. I don’t want to get into my rant about _that_ little stunt because frankly, it was bullshit.
> 
> Two, a much shorter little ramble. I’ve always been endeared by the idea that due to Sam’s time in the Cage as well as the demon blood that Sam’s just a thread more attuned to the astral plane. Which is why I will have remarks of Sam _seeing_ angel wings or little other quirks exclusive to the heaven and hellspawn in my stories, most prominent so far being UANS. The catch I have to use for a headcanon is he needs to be aware of the potential existence. Otherwise he would’ve recognized a change with Cas during 11 or the existence with any other supernatural entity they encounter. Sam is attuned, but only just enough for it to matter for aesthetic purposes when I’m writing. Not enough to break hunts or encounters with creatures he otherwise would’ve never suspected… and I don’t acknowledge the existence of The Life of Asa Fox because _logic_ holes. Then again, I’m not particularly fond of season 12 as a whole because Gods it was….
> 
> That’s it for this extensively long note. Kudos to those that actually made it through the whole thing.
> 
> (In other news I think I may have let my Sastiel ship brain bleed in just a thread at the end there, I’d apologize but I’m not really sorry. Sam’s grieving damn it!)
> 
> I hope you enjoy this next (hopefully shorter) journey I will take you on.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean track down Jack and Sam meets someone new. Meanwhile, in Apocalypse World Lucifer and Mary.... 'bond' over mutual distaste. Lucifer has an idea.

“Damn,” Dean kicked a can across the road and Sam sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes. “Another dead end. How the hell do we lose the devil’s kid!”

“He’s kidding,” Sam quickly spoke up when a woman shot them both a more than disturbed look. “Dean.”

“Another _serial killer_.”

“Have you considered that maybe we’re following the wrong omens?”

“He’s the devil’s kid.”

“But he’s part human,” Sam was forced to remind him for the hundredth time. “Two hours from here, Dean…” He started as they both found their way into their respective seats in the Impala. “There’s people claiming miracles. Lucifer _is_ an angel.”

“And angels are dicks. They don’t go around healing people out of the goodness of their hearts. I can’t believe you’re still talking about this.”

“And I can’t believe you aren’t considering it! Dean, I get you want to believe he’s evil incarnate but we _have_ to consider the prospect that he’s not. So, I’m going to make it simple. Either we go check out the miracles together or I’m going to head in by myself.”

“Dude-”

“I’m serious, Dean. It’s been a month and we’ve had no luck on your leads on killers. It’s time to look at the other side of the coin.”

“You think Lucifer’s kids off in the middle of Springfield making all the bad things go away. You know how ridiculous that sounds?”

“It’s a lot more reasonable than chasing every serial killer in the US. You know I’m right, Dean. It’s been a _month._ It’s time to consider the other option.”

“Three days. We can’t waste our time when he’s still out there potentially killing hundreds.”

Deciding that was the closest thing he would get to agreement, he didn’t bother fighting it. After everything, he didn’t exactly blame Dean for his stubborn streak. It was how he dealt with grief. Even when the grief wasn’t completely warranted. After all, there was a good chance Lucifer _hadn’t_ killed their mom.

There were more merits to keeping her alive, as a bargaining chip. Not that Dean was willing to see it. _“Mom’s dead, Sam.”_

An hour later, he’d managed to convince Dean to stop at a small town diner where he’d ordered for his brother when Dean insisted that he needed a moment for himself in the car. While he waited for his brother and their food, he checked his phone to confirm that yes, there was definitely something still going on in Leafbrooke. Most these were being reported on religious websites which he generally avoided when it came to finding cases, but some of them had made the bigger outlets. A ten year coma patient with massive head trauma suddenly alive and healed as though nothing was wrong. The big red flag was the lack of needed physical therapy. He could stand on two feet without any sort of issues.

And the newest. This one was a bit more low-key, only showing up on the localized religious news. An elderly man by the name of Jacob Wilson who had been dying a slow and painful death in a local nursing home woke up the previous morning with his dementia completely gone.

Even if it wasn’t Jack, this was still a case. Though admittedly it was one that they generally would turn a blind eye to. People weren’t getting hurt, they were getting help. Good help too from the research he was able to do, and there was nothing dark going on from what he could tell.

“Hello,” He frowned, looking up and shortcircuiting for half a second when he saw that the waitress from moments before had taken a seat across from him, a smile playing on her lips.

“Can I help you?” Something curled within him, unease prying at the back of his mind as he reached for the gun concealed beneath his jacket.

“Don’t bother with that, _dulzura_.” The woman purred, leaning back to snap her fingers, a plate piled high with cake appearing in front of her. She looked tall **,** tall enough to stand damn near eyelevel with him at his full height. The Hispanic woman’s skin was littered with tattoos that he recognized vaguely from his years of lore research, none of them seemed to be related to the other. Some old Norse, ancient Aztek, two different anti-possession sigils sporadically embedded within the intricate dark lines. Despite first glances, he really doubted she was in the early thirties her appearance hinted at.

“Who are you?”

“The name… changes. And it doesn’t matter.” She hummed, stabbing a silver fork into her cake and propping it up on the edge of her food. “What matters is what hunters are doing in my town. I play nice, I don’t get into trouble. Who are you and what are you doing here?”

The knee jerk response died on his lips as she bit into the cake. There was something… at the corner of his eye.

 _Crap_.

“My name is Sam Winchester-”

“Winchesters. Ugh. I should’ve known. Metzi! Bring the man his food!” She called out, effectively interrupting him and revoking his voice when he tried to continue. “You’re passing through. You’re not going to stay here. If you try, I will come to your motel and I will make you regret ever stepping foot in my territory. I _don’t like hunters_.” Her eyes narrowed as she spoke, the air crackling to life around them.

He swallowed.

“Alright, you can talk.” The energy in air died down almost instantly and she stabbed her cake again, smile returning. “Tell me that you understand.”

“You’re an angel.”

Metal clattered when the fork fell from her fingers, mouth falling open slightly before she regained her composure and raised a brow. “That’s sweet of you, but I’m not interested in hunters.”

“You have wings. I saw them.”

“You shouldn’t be able to see mine,” the woman surrendered rather quickly, suspicion on her face. “I’ve met countless angels that never noticed they were there. It was- well that doesn’t matter. How the hell can _you_ see them?”

“I don’t know,” Sam admitted, watching her warily. “You aren’t… Gabriel, are you?” He had to ask. The question was nagging at the corner of his mind. An insistent little suspicion he’d held since the Elysian Fields, the fact that Gabriel had faked his death countless times. Would he have really let Lucifer kill him? For them- or Kali? Hiding angel, sweet tooth… it worked.

Silence fell between them for a long moment and another woman came over, delivering his salad to the table before disappearing back into the kitchen without a word. “My name is Lessariah.” The woman finally said quietly, dispersing her cake and tapping her fingers against the table. “I’m not Gabrielle though I did learn a lot from her when I was younger.”

“Her?”

“Yes, her. She’s my aunt, always has been. From my understanding, back in biblical times humans kept insisting that Gabriel had to be a male. That angels were _all_ male. The sons of God. Eventually she gave in and started letting people assume whatever they wanted.”

“If she’s your aunt-”

“I’m a nephilim.” The woman in front of him confirmed and he couldn’t help but stare, trying to fully comprehend what he was hearing. A nephilim. Another nephilim… “My father was Michael,” She continued on. “One of Heaven’s greatest scandals. I’m sure you’ve heard of Joan of Arc, well that was mom. After daddy made his big mistake, auntie Gabriel rushed out of hiding before Michael could kill me under obligation. He did some serious cleanup on that one too. But that’s enough for now. **”**

“You’re the child of an archangel?”

“The one and only,” She smiled, no humor in her words. “But let’s just stick with Coyotl, nicely shortened version of the full Huēhuecoyōtl while holding a bit onto my shared name. It’s a lot easier if I’m just that. Less people look too close when you’re a trickster.”

 _Loki_. Gabriel had taken on a trickster persona too. ‘Witness protection’ he’d called it. He wondered if Gabriel set this up for her too.

Though he was hesitant to do so, he believed her story. Or at least a fair amount of it. “What are you actually doing here, Sam?”

“We’re just passing through.” He admitted, thinking about whether he should mention Jack or not. Apparently, she didn’t know she had a cousin. Was it really a good idea to tell her she wasn’t alone? Especially when said cousin was missing. And Lucifer’s son.

Probably not.

“Heading for miracle city then.” She stated rather than asked. “It’d pay for you to figure out what’s going on over there. I really don’t feel like dealing with hunter fallout when people start sticking their noses in where it doesn’t belong.”

“So, you don’t know what that is?”

“Think of it this way. This town, it doesn’t exist to nonhumans. Monsters, angels, demons. They _don’t_ come here. Pagans occasionally wander through but it’s meant to be that way. I stay out of their business, they stay out of mine.”

“And those marks on your arms?”

“Protection, hiding.” A smile played on her lips and she leered at them. “They’re full body, y’know, if you wanna get… acquainted before you skip town.”

“I’m good, thanks.” Sleeping with a nephilim was at the bottom of his list and casual sex wasn’t something he really favored.

“Offer’s there, _dulzura_. I like me a tall man that knows I can’t break. Oh! Which reminds me!” He really didn’t want to know what that particular set of words reminded her of. “If you happen across my aunt, do tell her I miss her. It’s been a long time.” The distant look that crossed her expression made a pang of sadness through him. Either she didn’t know Gabriel was dead, or he was right and she had seen him -her?- since then. If he was wrong, he didn’t really want to break that information out.

“I have a question before you fly off.”

“One question.” She conceded with a wary look to her eyes.

“How much like your father are you?”

“I’m not like _either_ of my parents, Sam. My mother was a hero, my father is a blind follower of God. I don’t believe in nature versus nurture because my entire existence depended on nurture, not nature. I’ve never felt an ounce of love towards some divine being that’s probably dead for all we know and I don’t feel the desire to save people because honestly, some people don’t deserve to be saved. I’m going to send you back to the real diner now, you have an hour to get out of here before I start tormenting the both of you.” Then everything shifted, the nephilim having disappeared and with it his food.

In fact, he was certain that he was the only thing that had moved. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Dean walking towards the table with a carefully neutral expression etched into his expression as a waitress rounded with his food and Dean’s propped up on a tray. Not at all the woman from before but he didn’t dare comment on it.

He needed to think.

 

*** • * • * • * • ***

 

Lucifer fought every instinct within him to outright kill Mary Winchester. It would be so _simple_ , yet he couldn’t make himself do it. Not while there was a chance he could return to his son.

His son. Taken and hidden from him before he ever had a chance to discuss with the…

With Kelly.

“They won’t give up, Lucifer.”

“Oh, like you know them so well.” He scoffed, shaking his head. “Let’s get a counter out Mrs. Winchest- oh, right. That would be _Ms._ Winchester now wouldn’t it. Or no! You’re a widow. I believe that completely discards you from being a Winchester of any sort. Mary _Campbell._ Failure mother of the year.”

“You don’t get to pretend you know what parenting is like-”

“And neither do you,” He countered immediately, scowling when she tripped over yet another rock. “I think I’ve actually been in your boys' life more than you have, and isn’t that just a tad bit pathetic?”

“I didn’t-” She scrambled after him as he kept walking. It was satisfying, knowing that she wanted back just as much as he did. That no matter how much she hated his guts, she wanted him alive. “-choose to die.”

“Technically, you did. Azazel made that deal with you and you knew the repercussions. But you were just _too_ selfish. And I mean, you’re talking to _me_. I’m supposed to be the embodiment of evil but damn that’s some dark parenting, Mary. You sold your son to a demon and died knowing full well you couldn’t stop it.”

“Go to Hell.”

“Let’s count, shall we? Because I’m sure I can discard me torturing Sam and _still_ have a higher count on how much time I’ve spent with your kids. I’m not saying I’m going to be a great father. Only Dad knows what _Kelly_ named him. Me? I would’ve gone for something older, maybe Hoshea or Isaiah. Maybe Jared. With my luck she gave him some boring name like… Bill or Phillip.”

“Are you done talking?”

“You don’t have to listen, Mary.” Lucifer reprimanded, absolutely loving the anger boiling off the woman in waves. She was quite literally torturing herself, he’d never exactly told her she _had_ to stay. In fact, she was free to leave. Though if she did, she had outlived her usefulness and was therefore disposable.

“Actually, stop.” Lucifer stopped in his tracks, kicking at the sand as he tilted his head. The air was silent here, the smell of sulfur and iodine bleeding through his senses above everything else.

“Finally.” He heard her mutter as he closed his eyes, her boots crunching in the sand as she no doubt moved to sit.

 _'Hey, Gabriel. Quick question. Did I kill you over here? If not, mind dropping in for a short chat.’_ Several long, silent moments passed before wings cut through the fabric of the planes and a short and lean female stepped through, golden eyes glinting behind pale eyelids.

“I see you’ve taken to your classic gender definition. Looks good on you.”

“You aren’t Lucifer. Michael killed him,” She murmured gruffly, looking towards Mary. “And you died in the early fights. What is this trickery, Michael? I don’t have the patience today.”

There was something that seemed off with her and Lucifer frowned, moving his attention from her face to her carefully folded wings. Scarred. Her body and vessel were littered with them. Marks that could only come from… “Who did this?”

“This isn’t amusing, brother.” _Broken._ He realized. Gabriel was _broken._ There was no mischief behind those eyes, no playfulness to her posture. Just a wary, elderly angel that didn’t believe what she was seeing.

“I’m not Michael.” Lucifer pressed carefully, unfurling large, glimmering white wings behind himself. “Michael was never good at deception, if you don’t believe me, touch them.”

Apprehensively, Gabriel did just that. She approached him and took hold of one of his secondary wings, pulling close and examining the feathers with a precision that made him feel far too uncomfortable. In their world, Gabriel never would’ve touched a wing. Not in a million years and he couldn’t help but shy away from the contact. It had been thousands of years since anyone had touched his wings except him and they were still damaged from the fall, flesh scarred beneath feathers from the holy fire Michael had so gracefully used on him.”

“You’re real… we need to go. Now,” Without any warning Gabriel locked her fingers around his wrist before snapping her fingers. With one, large, violent flap they were soaring downwards and his Grace all but screamed when they touched down in an awfully familiar place.

_The Cage._

“What the-”

“Michael won’t find us here.” Gabriel spoke quietly, grabbing hold of Mary and manhandling the protesting hunter into a chair. “Michael never finds me here. Here is safe. It’s quiet here.”

“Gabriel-”

“Nonono. It’s right. Everything is right. You didn’t- I… sorry, Lucifer. I’m sorry.”

“Gabriel… like the Archangel.” Mary said stupidly and he ignored her, examining Gabriel closely. She was jittery, jumping every so often as she looked over the staring Mary. It was difficult to catch at first, but it was there. In every motion…

“Why are you apologizing?”

“He- I uh…” The younger angel turned slowly, gaze flicking down to the floor. “I’m sorry.”

“Gabriel.”

“When- after I left… Michael was angry. He was always so _angry_. Your betrayal- it was nothing compared to his despise towards the humans. _‘Wasteful mud monkeys.’_ He punished me for running. Over and over… because I’m the coward. I’m the runaway, the reject. And I failed you. When it mattered most, I failed you. Because I’m a failure… oh! Stay here,” Something he couldn’t decipher flashed across her expression before she took off in a frantic flurry of wings.

What had happened to her?

“Your sister?”

“I killed my Gabriel.” He said almost absently as he circled around the edge of The Cage, touching the cool metal bars. Most of it was intact, the top looking like the entire Host had assaulted it. Some part of him mourned the version of him that had lived in this planet. “Because I didn’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice.” He ignored the disgust in her voice. What had happened between him and Gabriel had been necessary. In the end, he hadn’t been given a choice. It was either kill or be killed. There was no way that Gabriel would’ve just let him leave that room. “You’ve done nothing but antagonize my decisions the last two days, how about we look at yours. You rebelled against _God_ because you didn’t like humans.”

“It wasn’t that I didn’t _like_ them.” He scowled, spinning to glare at the woman. “Humanity was corrupt. Flawed. Nothing was purer than God Himself, yet He _ordered_ us to bow before you. The little abominations. I didn’t hate Adam. Not Lilith or Eve. Not at the start. You were flawed, but so were other creatures he’d made. The only difference between myself and Michael was that I _spoke up_. Surely your sons have told you about how they were treated by The Host. The ‘good guys’. Newsflash, Mary. None of us liked you. I didn’t plan to slaughter you all until Father had me cast out of Heaven.”

“Is that why you decided to have a kid?”

He didn’t bother humoring her with an answer. His kid was something else entirely and the condescending tone in her voice didn’t give a single thread of the idea that she actually thought of his child as his.

“Here!” Gabriel declared when she reappeared, offering him a long, charcoal feather.

It took a solid thirty seconds before he realized what he was looking at. “Why did you bring me this.” He demanded, shifting to hold it up against his own feather of the same time.

“You aren’t of my world, obviously. Means you need to get back home before you learn the truth- before he finds you. I can’t… it can’t happen again. So, you need to go.”

“So, you’re just helping us?” Mary asked, that annoying skepticism in her tone. He really wanted to kill her.

“Gabriel, I have an important question.”

“Nonono. You don’t get questions.” She turned away again, trembling visibly as she approached a large pile of knickknacks in the corner, picking up an old picture frame. “You get going. Before Michael sees.”

“What did Michael do to you?” He demanded, needing to know. She’d said torture but never specified what happened.

“ _’Gaaaabriel_ ,’” She sang softly as she set the picture frame in the middle of the floor, snapping her fingers so that it became a full length mirror. “ _’I’m going to kill you and I’m going to love it.’”_ She continued on as she walked over to him, never meeting his gaze. “ _’You should’ve taken my side. Now I’m going to take_ your _life._ ’” He jerked away when she plucked the matching feather from his wing, “ _’You little cowardly traitor.’”_

While she talked, she moved back to the mirror. Words wouldn’t have hurt her, not to this extent. Not this way… except she’d thought he was Michael. “He wore my face.”

“Every time. Except the time he didn’t. The time I had enough.” She murmured, pressing the feathers into the mirror and beginning to murmur in a language he didn’t quite know. Something he didn’t quite know how to take when he knew every language. “And I was wrong. I stabbed him… I killed him dead. And dead is dead when you kill for dead.”

“You killed him.”

“He asked me to join him,” She laughed sharply, brokenly. “And I stabbed him! Right in the heart. I loved him… and I betrayed him. And Michael laughed. He laughed and laughed and laughed. Michael laughed until he stopped being able to. He’d won, and he never had lift a finger to do it. I killed you dead… and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Everything seemed to freeze in that moment. Not because he didn’t think Gabriel was capable of killing him. His Gabriel was dead because he knew full well that the youngest archangel _was_ capable of killing him. It was the story that clawed at him.

The fact that in this world, he’d come to Gabriel. He’d asked for the youngest to help him and in return… Michael had conditioned their little sibling to kill him.

This Michael was dangerously clever and he was fortunate that this Gabriel hadn’t stabbed him the moment she appeared.

“Come now,” Gabriel declared suddenly as the mirror began to shimmer. “Go along. Michael mustn’t know.”

Much to his annoyance, Mary didn’t hesitate as she got to her feet and stepped through the glass, disappearing in a familiar flash of light. Though he caught rather quickly onto the flicker of energy that signified Gabriel’s influence on her mind. This Gabriel definitely was less inclined to respect humanity’s free will it seemed.

“Come with us.” Admittedly, he wasn’t sure where that came from. This Gabriel didn’t know him and was a clear threat.

“I won’t. I belong here just like you belong over there. I have to keep Michael at bay, redeem myself. Somehow…” She shivered, wrapping her arms around her side and closing her eyes. “I don’t belong there. I just am the messenger.”

“God’s messenger.”

“Yes, Him. Dad.” She confirmed, “Dad wants me to redeem myself. Must protect the prophet… must seek forgiveness. I lost the prophet… need forgiveness.”

“Wait- God’s here? In this rundown excuse for a planet?”

“Nonono. He’s… He’s nowhere. Sorry- I can’t… I wasn’t supposed to say that.” Her eyes flashed with grace for a moment before she dropped to the floor, pressing her palms together and shaking violently. “I’m sorry. I have to… I must leave. Leave here, Lucifer. If you don’t… I will hurt you.” Then she was gone, leaving Lucifer to stare at the spot she had been standing moments before.

God was here. In this world. Was that where him and Amara ran off to? Some other _dimension_. And they’d just left him behind. Because they’d used him. “Screw you too, pops. Screw you too. I’ve got a kid over there… and I’m going to do good for him. I won’t be the screwup you were! You hear me? I hope The Empty swallows you whole!” With an angry flap of wings, he threw himself through the portal.

He would find his son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So for reference.... I loathe Mary. I think she's an awful mother and I absolutely will not give her any leniency. If this was a post-season 11 fic I would tackle her character differently but I'm building off the groundwork the show gave me and I don't like what they gave me.   
> As for Lucifer, I feel like I should clarify that while I don't want to give away my Lucifer plans, I'm not going to pull what the show did at the end of season 13. And a lot of season 12. Lucifer is complex and while he's not a hero, he's also not a cut and dry villain.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean confront a familiar face and learn some things they needed to know, and some things they didn't need to.

Sam and Dean settled into a seat across from Mrs. Molly Parks. The grey-haired woman was intent on the cards in front of her. From the looks of it, she was winning the game though with solitaire it could change at any given moment.

“It was an angel,” The woman stated matter-of-factly.

“How-“

“All sorts of news people been coming in here. None of them quite like you two.” The eight of clubs was moved over the nine of diamonds. “But it’s all anyone talks about now. ‘How’d you do it?'. No 'how are you this morning'? An angel healed me. I’m walkin' and movin' here because an angel healed me.”

“That-“

“I believe you,” Sam interrupted his brother and the woman lifted her head, eyeballing him suspiciously.

“You don’t seem like the religious types.”

“I believe without a reasonable doubt that there is a God out there.” Sam told her very truthfully. Chuck may have jumped ship, but he was out there. Somewhere with Amara.

“I believe you.” The woman said after a long investigation of his expression. “Though I think your partner is less inclined in these beliefs. What do you want to know?” She moved the flipped king of hearts to an empty slot.

“Did you see anything? Hear anything?”

“I felt…” The woman paused, for a moment seeming not to breathe before she smiled softly and lifted her eyes. “I felt warmth. The memory of the first time holdin’ my daughter… the smell of momma’s pie. Then I could feel my body… my limbs. I was alive for the first time in many years.”

 _Angelic healing._ There was no doubt in his mind that she’d been healed by Grace. The first time that Cas had healed him, it had been bliss. Every time following that it hadn’t been quite like that and he’d nearly forgotten.

“Did anything else happen?” He asked gently, ignoring the look Dean gave him.

“I saw a face.” She said softly, “He… he told me he was an angel. That his name was Jack…”

He gave Dean his most subtle 'I told you' face before returning his gaze to the woman.

“Such an odd name for an angel but who am I to judge the divine?” Unsurprisingly, Dean got up and left him alone without saying a single word. “He promised to help us all. What do you think that means?”

“I think it means he has good intentions.” Sam said softly, offering her a gentle smile. “This is a very good story.”

“He was a sweet one. I always wondered if the divine could be… friendly. But he was kind.” The woman looked towards him again and frowned when she noticed that Dean was gone. “Where did your friend go?”

“He gets… stressed with religion.” Sam muttered, turning off the tape recorder they’d brought for the show. “Thank you for your story, Mrs. Parks.”

“Of course. I’m always happy to see some young faces.”

Pausing, he looked at her cards then her. “Does your family visit?”

“My daughter is moving me up to Ontario with her in a couple weeks. It just takes time to sort these things.”

“Right,” He cleared his throat and turned away again.

“You and that friend of yours made my dad a bit brighter just by visiting a crazy old woman. I hope you know that.”

“You aren’t crazy.” Was the only thing he could bring himself to say before he made his way through the nursing home to the glass doors where he stepped out to find his brother and issue a majorly important 'I told you so.’

 

*** • * • * • * • ***

 

“I don’t understand why you can’t take me to my father.” Jack complained to his aunt for what must have been the hundredth time. “Why must I learn my powers?”

“It’s not about powers, kid. It’s about you understanding yourself. Human babies don’t walk before they crawl, nephilim can’t fly before they understand that they need to breathe. Learning to use and channel your grace is vital in understanding your powers.”

“Could father not teach me?”

“He could, but he won’t want to. You’ve got to get an understanding of the fact that you’re a person. You are Jack. What you want to do as Jack? That’s determined by you.”

“Free will.” He remembered the phrase more than anything else. Something he had been told countless times before his birth. More and more he heard it from his aunt. Free will was important.

“Exactly.” Gabrielle nudged his back, squeezing his shoulder and drawing his attention from the book on the table in front of him. “You have to learn to think for yourself before you meet your dad, otherwise he’ll want to think for you.”

“But… if I’m supposed to think for myself, doesn’t that mean I should ignore what you say to me as well?”

“I mean, you could.” His aunt agreed, crossing the space in front of him to flip open the book on the table. “But I don’t think that you should. I’m open minded enough to understand the difference. Take Winchester and Co. for example. If you’d stuck around with them, you’d be riding one of two trains. Train one would’ve involved Dean Winchester looking for every possible way to kill you. Not fair, I know. What’d you ever do to deserve to die? Anyways, train two would be ‘he’s got to do good things to be a good person. Team Free Will, go!’ or whatever they do before going out on a hunt. Which is fine, but it’s not fair to you. Though I’m reluctant to say so, if you want to follow in daddy’s footsteps? Who are we to stop you? Granted everyone would prefer if you _didn’t_. But it’s an option, y’know? With them, you wouldn’t get the freedom of choice. You’d be on the hit list or you’d be brainwashed to the good side.”

“What is wrong with my father’s foot?” Jack asked, trying to focus on making the book move again. It wasn’t cooperating- or more importantly, his Grace wasn’t. His wings were easy to use, he had even found that healing was simple enough. But actively manipulating his powers to extend past his body had been difficult and draining.

“It’s a figure of speech, kid. Basically… well Lucifer made some bad choices in life. Tried to kill me, tried to kill the human race. Decimate both Hell and Heaven’s populations. You know how it goes… okay, maybe you don’t. But the point is, he’s made some bad choices. He’s suffered for some of them- not all of them. But some of them. Following in his footsteps basically means, doing what he did. Following behind him and making the same devastating choices that he did.”

“I don’t want to kill anyone, though.”

“Which is a good thing,” Gabrielle praised and he couldn’t stop his wings from fluffing up a bit at the praise, a smile crossing his face as the grace finally began to reach out. “Murder’s nasty business and would prove to everyone that nephilim are all bloodthirsty monsters. No one wants that, though.”

Jack wasn’t sure what to say so he instead focused on letting his grace trickle from his fingertips, moving forward to grip the edges of the book. Gabrielle was silent while he focused and slowly the little bits of energy finally wrapped around the book, allowing him to lift it up off the table. It stayed there for about three seconds before his grace retracted and the book thudded back onto the table.

“That was good,” Grinning, Gabrielle closed the book and looked at him. “Really good.”

“It isn’t staying up, though. I keep trying and I keep messing it up and I don’t understand. This should be… it should be natural. It’s part of me.”

“You’d think so,” Gabrielle mused, tapping her fingers against the table. “But it’s not that easy. Especially for nephilim. You’re two sides of the spectrum. You’ve got all this energy to spend but your body gets caught up in the normal human functions. Eating, drinking, sleeping. Once you train your grace to discard those natural processes, it’ll be easier to control it.”

“But if I can’t lift a book, how can I possibly train my grace to work with my body?”

“Because once that part’s trained, it comes naturally. I’ve worked with your cousins in the past, Jackie. I know it seems like it’s impossible, but you’ll get there.”

“Before or after I meet my father?”

Gabrielle went silent and he stared at her with all the purpose he could muster. All of the frustration of an angry toddler. It had been long enough. Gabrielle had told him it wouldn’t be long, this felt far too long.

“Your father- hell. Your father is… gone, Jack.”

“No he isn’t.” His mother had been concerned because of that. She had warned him that he could be dangerous. That he couldn’t die.

“I know what you think but… look, kiddo.” With a wave of her hand they were both seated on the comfy chairs that Gabrielle often brought out during difficult conversations. “He isn’t dead. Archangels- we aren’t easy to kill. But he’s not here. From what I can tell, he’s in another universe.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know.” She smiled sadly then, reaching between them and resting her hand over the top of his. “I wasn’t there so I’m sketchy on details but basically… you opened a portal to another dimension. That’s rare power, stuff that untethered grace can do before it’s fully formed. It’s made up off a lot of Creation energy and it’s messy.”

“I can get him back then.”

“Not yet, kid. Maybe not ever. You aren’t what you were in the womb. You’re grounded by your body and soul. But we’re going to try… you just have to work with me. You have to learn your powers. Once you understand them, we can work on getting your Dad back.”

“Why can’t you do it?”

“Because it isn’t an Archangel power, Jack. This is a nephilim ability and the abilities that nephilim have are different than the abilities of an Archangel. You have to grasp yours, and you will… but it will take time.”

“I want to find my father,” He murmured quietly, looking towards the door yet again. “There must be others like me…”

“No, Jack.” Gabrielle approached him again, gripping his shoulder gently and he relished in the contact. “You are the only one. There were others, many years ago, but… they are no more. The nephilim are all but extinct. Heaven made sure of that.”

“I’m alone,” He sighed softly, breathing deeply when arms wrapped around him tightly.

“No, you aren’t alone. You have me, one day you will have your father… though you might realize he’s not all you hoped for. But you have to remember that, Jack. You aren’t alone. I’m here for you.”

“I know.” He turned to return the hug. “I’m just… sad I think.”

“Loneliness is something that you can get past. You just have to find people and until then, you have me.”

“If I have you, does that mean I’m not alone?”

“Yes.” Gabrielle laughed softly, squeezing him tighter. “It does.”

 

*** • * • * • * • ***

 

“Gabriel’s _dead_ , Sam. We saw his body! You’re really trying to tell me that you- why didn’t you tell me you found another one of those… those things!”

“Because you’re not thinking clearly and acting like a complete _dick_.”

His brother’s mouth slammed shut as he stared at him, clearly not comprehending the level of assholery he’d been committing since Case died.

“I loved Cas too, damn it but you can’t keep blaming the kid for what he did before he was born! Cas made his choice, _Mom_ made hers. It sucks but… it was _their_ choices.”

“He _brainwashed_ Cas.” Dean scowled, not touching on the topic of their mom like Sam had already figured would happen. “Or are you forgetting that?”

“I let Lucifer out, freed Amara, or are you forgetting _that_? The difference is that I was a full grown adult who made dumbass decisions. Jack was an unborn baby- and maybe he’s not human but _neither am I._ ”

“That’s not the same.”

“It’s absolutely the same. The difference is I was an adult when I made stupid decisions that hurt people, he wasn’t _born_ , though. He was still in the womb and there’s a good chance that whatever happened then, he doesn’t even _remember_.”

“There’s also a chance he does.”

“And, so what? Dean, do you not remember what he promised Cas? A perfect world! Maybe we should give that a chance-“

“Do I need to remind you Lucifer’s idea of a perfect world? The angels? A perfect world has never worked out for us.”

“ _Cas_ believed in him.”

“Cas was bad about blindly following a cause he thought was for the better of the world. But, you know what? Fine. Let’s pretend that this isn’t going to end bad. I don’t care anymore.”

It wasn’t an agreement. It wasn’t a 'maybe you’re right' but it was a road to 'I'm trusting you for now' which was the best he was going to get with the active situation. It was more than he’d had an hour ago.

“So what’s the plan, Sam? Just sit around the nursing home until the kid shows his face?”

“I want to pray to Gabriel.” He admitted, ignoring the scowl on his brother’s face. “If he’s alive, and that nephilim was telling the truth there’s a good chance that he’s got something to do with this.”

“Alright then,” Dean turned and made his way to the Impala, taking his seat without another word.

After joining him, there was a quiet atmosphere to the car while they drove for the edge of town to an open field, they’d seen on the way end. While it wasn’t the ideal place for a summoning, the town was too small to risk summoning and pissing off an archangel within the boundaries of. If things were how he suspected, it didn’t matter anyways. Gabriel would’ve made them the second they hit town and if he planned on showing up, all the preparation in the world wouldn’t do them any good. Time and time again they’d learned that lesson.

“I hate this,” Dean muttered as he poured out the holy oil, creating a large circle in the center of the field.

“C’mon, Dean.  It’s not like he’s ever killed us before.” There was a moment where Dean opened then shut his mouth. Then he smiled a bit for the first time in over a month. Years ago, it would’ve been a bad joke. Up until The Cage, that had been one of the worst memories of his life. Now, though. Now it was just another screwed up event in their chaotic lives.

“Speak for yourself,” Dean murmured, joining his side. “Ready?”

“Not at all.” Lifting his head, he looked at the setting sun. “Hey, Gabriel. It’s been… a long time. A really long time. We thought you were dead, saw your body and… well, you left us that suicide note, it was Lucifer. We didn’t think you could’ve made it. Now we’re under the impression that you might be alive and…. well, we need to talk.”

In all honesty, he’d expected bright lights, a parade, some sort of distinctive indication of the arrival before it happened. Instead, there was a long breath of silence. Then he blinked, and there Gabriel was.

Not even a flap of wings, just a slight smirk, a raised eyebrow, and the shorter man who wasn’t a man at all standing about four feet in front of them.

“Sam. Dean.” The archangel greeted, grinning widely. It took some time. It’s only been, what? Eight years? Really wounds a gal when you can’t be bothered to call after I laid my life down for you bozos.”

There was a dryness to the words, a lack of humor that had only accompanied the conversation about who and what he was, a bitter and false humor hanging off the end of each word. He sounded hurt- or maybe being potentially murdered by his brother had done a number on him.

“We saw your body,” Dean was the first to speak and Sam cursed himself internally for falling silent. “And we weren’t allies. We didn’t owe you a call.”

“True, so what’s the deal now? What’re Thing One and Thing Two doing on my doorstep with a holy oil circle the size of a small bus at their feet?”

Neither brother seemed to be surprised that the archangel caught onto that detail and neither tried to light it.

Yet.

“We’re looking for Jack.”

“No, you aren’t.” Gabriel hummed, smiling widely. “You, Dean Winchester are hunting down every serial killer in the continental US. And Sam. Oh, sweet innocent and naïve little Sam. You were along for the ride. Until the miracles started. Then you out your foot down and told big bro what for. Well, good for you!”

“Do you have him?” Dean scowled, glaring at the archangel.

“How long have you been following us?”

“I haven’t. This guy has,” With a wave of his hand, a small dog appeared at his ankles, pale brown with pointy ears and beady eyes. A chihuahua if he were to guess. “I’ve been busy. Can’t waste every waking moment on you two, so I settled for sending the little rat to do my dirty work.”

“Doing what?” Dean pressed on, completely ignoring the fact that apparently Gabriel had sent a dog to stalk them.

“Wow, you sure don’t know how to drop a topic.”

“And you really can’t seem to answer a question.” Sam countered, shaking his head and glaring. “If you don’t have anything to do with Jack, why have you been following us since he disappeared?”

“And there’s the question you should be asking. Yes, I have my nephew. After you two lost him, I went after him. Heaven’s not exactly accepting of the nephilim.”

“But you are?” Dean asked, clearly not believing it.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you. My brother’s son is alive and well and frankly, I’m not super interested in your views on him when you already _shot him_.”

Before Dean could open his mouth, Sam spoke up. “Why did you save him?”

“Because the nephilim are family. Sure, they’re part human and yeah, Dad outlawed them. But we made them. Not Him. They’re usually really easy to maintain because they aren’t made without really strong emotions being involved.”

“ _Lucifer_ created one,” Dean blurted and Gabriel raised a brow.

“Lucifer isn’t some heartless beast, Dean. Yes, he has a lot of issues. But he _does_ feel. He feels really strongly. Someone who hates humanity as much as he does, it’s not a small emotion.”

“It doesn’t need to be positive emotions,” Sam surmised and Gabriel nodded.

“So Lucifer could make a nephilim because he hated humanity? That sounds like a healthy foundation for childbirth.”

“Dean,” Sam hissed, Gabriel’s eyes flashing a bit with an almost golden color.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you, you arrogant dick!” Just as he started forward, Dean’s lighter clicked and the circle of holy fire lit up. It didn’t seem to intimidate Gabriel who scowled, stopping at the edge of the circle. “You honestly think this fire scares me?”

“It held you before,” Dean countered arrogantly and Gabriel laughed. A sharp and amused sound that set off all sorts of warning bells in him. Not giving Dean a chance to say something else stupid he grabbed him by his arm to tug him away from the circle as the flames died out.

“Want to try that again?” Gabriel asked, the air crackling with energy. Unlike every other angel he had ever knowingly encountered, there was absolutely no indication to his wings. Nothing suggesting his powers except the energy crackling in the air making Dean wisely step back.

“How-“

“First rule of being a Trickster? Don’t spill your biggest tricks. You already knew what I was, what was the point of showing you I could break the fire. Now, you have to options. The first is the one I much prefer. You keep being a dickbag with little regard for the fact that you’re talking about my _nephew_ and I beat you within an inch of your life. Remember, _you_ called me. Or you shut the hell up and let me tell you what Jack is like before you jump to the conclusion that he’s the damned _mirror image_ of his father.”

Dean didn’t dare speak, something Sam was eternally grateful for. Carefully, he stepped between the two and Dean moved away, grass crunching beneath his feet as he moved further back.

Not leaving because this was _Gabriel_.

“Is he alive?”

“Yes,” Gabriel conceded after a moment, relaxing just a bit and stepping back out of his space. “Jack’s alive. I hate the name, by the way. Who gave him it?”

“Kelly Kline.”

“His mother.” Sam nodded. “Probably better than an angel name. We’ve never been great at them. Jack is still so damned dull, though. But I guess my opinion doesn’t matter, he isn’t mine.”

“Do you have any?”

“No.” He answered tightly, “And that’s not what we’re talking about.”

Obviously he had, at one point, but the reaction probably meant that any baby Gabriels were long gone and he wasn’t really sure how he felt about that. It was clearly a sore topic for the archangel.

“When I picked him up, he was weak. The newborns usually are. They are pure instinctual and the instincts send them after two things. Staying alive, and finding their angelic parent.”

“Lucifer.”

“Yeah. But from what I understand, my brother is gone so I’m trying to fill that emptiness.”

“Wait- you said angelic parent. I thought the girl always dies during the birth.”

“The human does. Nephilim draw on the human's soul and angel's grace during the pregnancy. It eventually kills the human parent and the newborn seeks their angelic one. For example, if one of you idiots got intimate with a female angel… it’d kill you. Slowly and painfully. You could be a thousand miles away and it’d still kill you and my sister would have a small nuke.”

Which was not a particularly comforting scenario to have thrown in their faces.

“Don’t worry though. I doubt any of my sisters could feel strong enough about either of you for it to be an actual concern.”

“You’re a female, right? How does that work- with the male body.”

Gabriel stared at him for a moment and he yet again got that strange feeling of abnormality. Like he was seeing a new side to the Trickster- which frankly, shouldn’t have been a surprise. They weren’t close by any means.

“I’m surprised you knew that. We can’t get pregnant in male vessels or bodies that have no ovaries. There also needs to be consent for the pregnancy from the body. Why? Wanna get down and dirty, Sammy boy?”

He turned his head, shaking it and scowling at the ground.

“You’re a chick?” Dean asked, confusion lacing his words and Gabriel groaned.

“I’m an angel, and yeah, we’re sexless but sometimes we go by one or the other. I was a female up until humans got it in their brains that we were 'the sons of God' and I got sick of correcting it. It doesn’t matter in the end, not anymore.”

“Gabriel’s a guy’s name.”

“Gabrielle isn’t.” it was still pronounced with the hard start of Gabriel, the end of the name emphasizing with that familiar feminine accent that he’d met many women with.

“It’s just a name. Now can we please change topics?”

“Why are you in a male body?”

“Because I share with Loki.” Gabriel scowled, turning their back on him. “Drop it.”

“Jack.” Sam pressed before giving Dean a look that screamed for him to shut up.

“He wants to find his father. Kid won’t shut up about it.”

“But he’s healing people.”

“Yeah, because he’s part angel. Lucifer wasn’t… always a monster.” Gabriel spoke reluctantly, ignoring Dean’s loud scoff. “It was Dad’s fault in the end.”

“Amara.” Sam surmised, Gabriel shooting him a confused look.

“Where were you for that?” Dean pressed on and Gabriel looked between them, clearly not understanding what the hell they were talking about. Which was… strange.

“You’re gonna have to be more specific. What and who?”

“Amara, God’s sister.” Sam added and there was a fleeting moment before he -she?- blinked, nodded.

“Right. Auntie. Yeah, she’s kind of a sore spot so I don’t really like thinking too much about her.”

“God said you were dead.”

“God says a lot of things.” Gabriel countered, rolling her eyes. “It doesn’t make them true. You of all people should know that, Dean-o.”

“You think God just left you out of the fight?”

“Yeah. Because she was his sister and no one wants to hurt a sibling.” Neither of them said a word to that. Sam vividly remembered Chuck’s reluctance to deal with Amara, the difficulty they’d had in getting his help. Would it be that surprising if he’d deliberately weakened his side against her?

 _No._ He decided pretty quickly, Dean making a soft sound of reluctant agreement at the same time he’d decided that.

“Where is Jack?” Sam tried to pull the conversation back on track.

“A good distance away,” The archangel responded evasively. “He’s safe and practicing his telekinesis.”

“That’s comforting,” Dean scowled and Sam rolled his eyes.

“If everything’s fine, why are you hiding him?”

“Because he’s in constant danger. I knew you two would be hunting him down so I had to lay out some breadcrumbs, it was the only way to draw your attention while hiding him from the angels and demons. The fact of the matter is that he’s at risk. Every moment he’s in the world, exposed, he’s in danger. Heaven and Hell both want him and they aren’t going to stop until they have him. Though you guys might not like it, he’s safer with me than he’ll ever be with you.”

“So we can’t see him because he’s in danger?”

“No, you can’t see him because if you do, and you’re caught, then Heaven and Hell will know where he is. I have to protect him and as long as you two are involved, he’s not going to be safe.”

“So, that’s it?”

“Yes. I came to this to do you a favor. That’s it. I didn’t have to, I don’t need to answer prayers, but I did. Because I felt like I owed you closure. You’ve gotta let the kid go, though. He’s going to do good.”

“How the hell are we supposed to trust that?”

“Trust it, don’t, I don’t really care. The point is that when I leave, you won’t hear anything or see me ever again. I did good with Michael’s girl, I’ll take care of Lucifer’s. I’ll raise them right, even if it’s not the way you want it to be. It’s better this way.”

She was getting angry again, the air crackling to life and Sam knew they didn’t really have a choice. Yeah, they could keep tracking down Jack but the chances were that Heaven and Hell were still after him. Would it benefit the kid to keep going after him?

Especially with the way that Dean was acting about the entire Jack situation.

“You should keep him.” Much to Sam’s astonishment, Dean was the first to speak. “I don’t want to deal with him and you’ve obviously got a handle on the situation,” Less surprising, but still surprising. Dean giving a potential nuke to someone that they couldn’t really call an ally, much less acquaintance? It was completely unexpected. Sam wasn’t even sure he was ready to make that agreement and Dean was throwing him away without a second thought.

“I’m impressed.” Gabriel grinned and Sam turned to face his brother.

“Really?”

“I want to drown him in holy oil but, you know what? If he- she- whatever wants to deal with the kid, you said he dealt with Michael’s and she turned out at least semi-normal. Screw it, let him deal with it. I’ll treat him like crap because I’m pissed, I blame him for Cas and Mom and I’m not going to get over it. It’s better for everyone if he’s in the hands of the sometimes complete dickbag than around me. At least Gabriel won’t shoot him on principle.”

“Shooting someone for heritage isn’t principle.” Gabriel huffed from behind him.

“Shut up.” Sam scowled, “Dean, this is rash. Even for you.”

“Yeah, well. You wanted me to stop hunting him? This is the option we have.”

“Leave him with Gabriel?”

“You wanted to call him.” Dean pointed out. “We could’ve kept chasing the other leads but we didn’t.”

“That’s because they weren’t leads!”

“And you’re right, but we _found him._ I can’t believe I’m on this side of the argument.”

“Fine.” Sam conceded, sighing deeply and turning away. “But you’ve got to swear you’ll keep him away from Lucifer.”

“Big bro’s in another universe so that’s not really a concern, but fine. I swear I’ll keep him from his father. I did it with Mikey’s kid and he was here.”

“Wait- Gabriel, before you take off… I have a question.”

“What?” Gabriel raised a brow in Dean’s direction.

“Back during the Apocalypse… Raphael implied that Lucifer brought Cas back. Can you-“

“Michael and Lucifer are the only archangels capable of resurrecting angels. Sorry to break it to ya. If I could, I would just to buy the brownie points of having you hate me slightly less.”

“That’s fine. It was just a dumb idea anyways.” Dean muttered, turning and walking back into the trees behind them. “I’ll be in the car.”

“Alright,” Sam sighed, turning his full focus to Gabriel. “What about… Mom?”

“What’s the story there?”

“She… pushed Lucifer through the portal and he… drug her in after him.”

“If she was in that other world when she- even if he _didn’t_ kill her… I can’t open a portal like that. Archangels can’t… we just don’t have the juice. Nephilim can barely pull it off after they’re born. I’m sorry, kiddo but it’s not something I can do.”

“We had to ask.”

“I know.” Gabriel smiled, soft and genuine. “We all do. I’ve gotta go now. I’ve got a kid to take care of. Take care, alright?”

“If you need our help- for any reason at all. Let us know. I figure you can track us down.”

“You know it. If something comes up, I’ll pop in.” Then he was gone. Just like that. Something niggled at the back of his mind, something he couldn’t place. And he hated that this was how everything happened- even if it was potentially the best outcome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would've gotten this chapter out sooner but I got super sick. Apologies for any mistakes 'cause I'm still recovering.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer arrives in the normal world and things quickly go south for Sam after a meeting with Garth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since it’s usually my go-to, I thought I’d mention there’s absolutely not going to be Sabriel in this particular fic. That said, playful flirting is gonna be a thing that happens. Because Gabriel.

_Beep, beep, beep_. Lucifer groaned at the sound, trying to shift around and grimacing when he felt something metallic dig into his wrists. Everything was dark and there was a hollow emptiness within him where he could feel but was unable to touch his Grace.

There was a moment where he forgot everything else, when terror found its way into his guy and he remembered the anger of Michael, the feelings of betrayal when he was first thrown into The Cage. The first years he had been basically human, until his Grace found its way beneath the warding. This was different. This wasn’t The Cage, that much he was certain.

Exhaling deeply, he spoke firmly. Whoever this was, they had him warded. They knew who he was. “I don’t know who you are, but I hope you realize you’re going to suffer -horribly- I might add when I get out of this.”

“I would worry,” A voice came from somewhere at his feet. “If you were scary anymore.”

The smug undertone screamed demon, which demon? He couldn’t find himself to care. Though it would probably make this whole thing a lot easier.

“Taken down by a human,” She tsked, snickering as a hand came down on his ankle. “Sure, she’s a _Winchester_. But I guess that’s just a pattern. Sam Winchester, Mary Winchester, I should bind you up with a pretty little bow for Dean next time.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” He bit out, yanking at the cuffs. There was a clatter as what sounded like chains hit against metal. Metal table. Oh, this was just sad. Probably an angel trap welded into it. Probably another on the floor, a prepared circle of holy oil like that could barely hold him for more than a couple minutes.

“Big scary devil,” She singsonged, stepping into view and tugging the blindfold off his eyes. The light above him was blinding and white, assaulting his senses until his infuriatingly human vision was able to take in the brunette woman, short and familiar- though not to him specifically.

Now, _that_ was interesting.

“If I remember right from sweet Sammy’s memories, _you_ were killed by that very brother. I can’t see you eager to repeat the event.”

“No matter what I did, Sam would never let Dean kill me again.” She retorted, patting his cheek and smiling sadly. “After all, I may have screwed them more than anyone ever has in their life, but it wasn’t my fault either. I did what I had to. Because I didn’t have a _choice_.”

“You always had a choice, Ruby. Blaming me won’t make them forgive you for all of your sins. How are you alive, by the way? I know for a fact you died in that chapel.”

“Talking won’t get you out of your bindings. You’re mine.”

“Where’s Mary?” He asked, not really caring for any reason other than the potential leverage she held in him getting his son back without a fight.

“She’s fine. Unconscious at the moment. Interdimensional travel isn’t an easy thing for a human apparently.” Ruby didn’t seem at all concerned and it was grating on him. That confidence didn’t match what he knew about her. She had been the key in his original escape, she had been _loyal_ to him. How was she alive now? Demons didn’t just get handed resurrections. “You are never going to guess what did it, Lucifer. And I won’t tell you, either.”

“I can’t begin to imagine why you of all people would do this. I offered you the world.”

“No. You _manipulated me_. You were never going to give me what I wanted, I was _never_ going to stand by your side as Lilith’s replacement. Because I was a demon. But now things have changed, now I’m here and you’re at my eternal mercy.”

“You can hold me here all you want, but you will never kill me. And, Ruby? I promise you, when the time comes. You will regret ever doing this.”

“Have fun with your threats, Lucifer. I have a gift to deliver.”

“What are you doing?” He demanded, gaze following her around the small room as she made her way to the door.

“Making sure that Sam and Dean remain a threat to you. Can’t have them giving under the premise that you saved their mom, afterall.”

Destroying his leverage. While he really didn’t want to defend Mary’s life, if someone was going to kill the woman he wanted it to be him. After all, she was why he had missed the birth of his son.

“Wait- c’mon, Ruby. We can make a deal.” He pleaded reluctantly. Not at all meaning a word of it but throwing that same pathetic tone he’d used in his words with Crowley. Apparently Ruby _did_ have her own agenda over whoever had brought him back because she stopped in the doorway, turning to eyeball him from where she stood with a considering look in her expression.

“Why should I trust you? You’ve done nothing for me.”

“You should trust me, because I don’t lie,” At least he didn’t. Until his Father betrayed him. If God couldn’t keep His damned word, what was the point of him doing it? “When have I ever lied to you?”

“You-“

“I won’t deny that I manipulated you. I absolutely did. But I never lied to you. Never once did I lie. You have no reason to trust me, except the one important truth. The fact that I am an Archangel of my word. I have been and always will be.”

“And what are you offering? What can you possibly offer that the one that saved me won’t?”

She was being careful. Whatever -whoever- it was that brought her back, she wasn’t going to give that information to him easily. Not that it would matter once he was free.

“Everything you thought I was offering you for freeing me. Hell, it’s throne. I don’t have any interest-“

“So, you really _do_ lie now.” She cut him off, laughing and shaking her head. “I’m disappointed, Lucifer. You were always honest, even when you deceived us. Now you’re no better than those other arrogant dickbags you call brothers.”

“Ruby!” He shouted when she backed out of the room, the metal door slamming shut behind her. “You arrogant little sack of cells! I’m going to rip you apart when I get out of this, you hear me?!”

While he shouted at her, he reached deep down. Exploring all of the recesses of his core in search of his Grace. It had been a long time since he’d done this and though he would never admit it, he hated doing it. Seeking out his Grace meant acknowledging the dark mass that had once been brighter than any of his brothers and sisters. The thing that had been tainted because his Father had chosen to burden him with Amara.

It took longer than it had in the past, but he finally found it. His Grace was bundled deep within him, wrapped up in some of the strongest wards he’d seen in his life. Things he could only recognize from the very early days. The work of Archangels, maybe. The only living Archangel was Michael, though. He’d killed Gabriel… and Raphael had been killed by Castiel. Had Michael broken out of the Cage?

He really hoped he hadn’t. His brother wasn’t in exactly the greatest shape after their imprisonment and he didn’t want to begin to think of what would happen if he found out that Lucifer had fathered a child.

With that premise in mind, he began tearing at the wards, slamming into them over and over again.

Outside of his Vessel, he heard the first rewarding creak of metal under the weight of his mental assault. This wouldn’t take too long.

 

* • * • * • * • *

 

It had to be a trick of his mind, he decided when he rounded the corner to see an empty street. It wasn’t possible that she was actually alive. Dean had killed her. Sam had _helped_ him kill her and it had been years now.

Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that what he had seen was real and he didn’t want to think about what it might mean for them if it was. She _couldn’t_ be alive.

She wasn’t.

Shaking his head to clear it, he turned and crossed the block to the bar where he had been asked by Garth to come and meet him. Much to his dismay, Garth had returned to hunting and he was apparently yet again playing Bobby. While it was good for the hunters to have someone to go to, he really worried about the backlash if any of them found out that the young and ridiculous hunter had made one of _those_ mistakes.

“Sam!” He didn’t bother fighting off the inevitable hug as the gangly man wrapped his arms around him.

“Hey, Garth.” He laughed, patting him on the back before taking a step back as he was released. “Been a while.”

“Wouldn’t be if you called me more.” Garth answered all easygoing and contentment. Never would it cease to amaze him how happy someone could be all the time as a hunter.

“Honestly? Dean didn’t tell me you’d gotten back into hunting.” Sam explained as they took a seat in one of the booths. “Or running hunts. Are you hunting?”

“Not personally- not yet. Me and Bess have been traveling North America a lot as of late. Just traveling. I’ve been doing calls, though. Helping guide people on hunts.”

“You said you wanted to talk to us?”

“I noticed you were in the area,” He grinned and Sam was reminded of when they’d learned they were being tracked by him. “I figured it would be easier in person. Where’s Dean, by the way?”

“Passed out in the room. He had a long night.” His drinking and ruthless hunting was migrating to sex, which could be seen as an uphill motion- or another descent further into depression. They needed a _win_ and while they knew where Jack was, it wasn’t a win in Dean’s eyes. Not when the kid was still alive and possibly not a threat to the wellbeing of society. Not that Dean was talking about it. Because he never talked about his problems. Maybe they should visit Jody and the girls.

“He’s taking Cas’ death pretty hard.” Garth sounded apologetic. The fact that he knew about Cas made Sam well aware that Dean had mentioned it and he wondered how the topic had come up. Probably not a great story. “You thought about taking a break?”

“Multiple times. Never really a chance for it.”

“Vacations are important, you know.” Something told him he had lectured other hunters about this in the past. “I know you two get into the big crazy bad stuff but sometimes you’ve got to take a step back and breathe.”

“Why are you here, Garth?” He sighed, rubbing his temples. It was way too early for this. Not to mention the hell that sleeping had been.

“Oh, yeah. Dean told me to have people keep an eye out for anything crazy. Like… anything particularly bad. Apocalyptic signs.”

Of course he had. “You don’t need to worry about that-“

“It’s the monsters.”

Sam frowned, raising an eyebrow at Garth. “What about them?”

“They’ve been significantly more aggressive. It took me longer than it should’ve to realize, but attacks have increased recently.” He shifted and pulled the laptop bag off his shoulder that Sam had missed before. “See,” He flipped the open and the screen came to life, a large map of North America appearing on the screen with red dots planted all across the US and the northern parts of Mexico, less littering the southern parts of Canada. “This was a month ago.”

Before he even saw, he could guess what it was. The map flipped and the dots had doubled. In some more rural areas, tripled. “All of these are monsters?”

“For the most part. I know there’s more as well because I’m not in contact with every hunter. But I figured it would fall into the category of apocalyptic signs.”

It definitely was something to worry about. The last time they’d had to worry about something like this, it had been Eve. But Eve was dead which meant it had to be something else. But what? Though Dean would likely disagree, Gabriel and Jack wouldn’t have reason to increase the monster head count.

“Can you tell me what monsters they were?”

“I can do better,” He answered, clicking through a couple programs to pull up an identical map. This time, he clicked the nearest dot, labeled _SW &DW: angel? _

“Did you make this?”

“What, me? No.” He laughed, shaking his head. “I’m not computer person. Remember Krissy Chambers? She’s going to college to be some sort of computer tech. She built this on a private server to help me keep track of hunts.”

College. While he hadn’t known the girl, he had met her and it made him feel old thinking that she was in college now. “That’s impressive.” He said after clicking through a few others. All of the little popups had a similar pattern. Initials followed by a creature, some tagged with question marks or simply three question marks where the names otherwise would be. Below some of them were notes with information or details about the hunt in them. “Really impressive. Bobby would be proud.”

Garth beamed at this. “I know he would.” Finally a waitress made her way to them and Sam ordered a beer, Garth wisely ordering a coke. “So, has Dean been updating you for us or are you just tracking our phones?”

“Your phones. I’ve only heard from Dean once or twice over the last few months. He’s been kinda quiet about what you two have been up to.”

“Lucifer’s son.” Sam filled in the blanks with two words, Garth’s eyes widening.

“For real?”

“Yeah. It’s a long story but it’s more or less why Cas died.”

“That’s bad.” Garth sounded sympathetic. “Never great when you lose a friend. Did… Lucifer’s kid do it? Should we be worried?”

“Lucifer killed him. Was a really hard night.” Despite himself he found himself thinking about their mom again. What had happened to her had been awful and it still killed him that they hadn’t been able to save her.

“Y’know. I figure that Dean will throw the idea to the curb but you might be interested. Do you remember Josephine?”

“Vaguely. What about her?”

“She’s going to school to be a therapist, she’s been helping some hunters.”

“You’re right. Dean will throw the idea to the curb. Look, Garth. It’s a nice thought but… even for someone who’s trying to help hunters… who understand it, our lives are a lot. I just don’t think I could put that on someone.” It was the best way he could explain it at the moment without admitting that he didn’t think he _could_ do it.

“You’d be surprised how much good she does. But that’s your choice. You ever change your mind, let us know.”

Sam nodded graciously, looking back at the screen. “So how can I access this?”

“Oh, easy. You can create a guest profile on the private mail server then add your own information. She’s mentioned maybe creating a digital library for all the accurate supernatural resources in the future. Has this whole thing planned out.” Garth began to ramble a bit but he lost focus when he clicked on another nearby case. Labeled as Trickster with a note about the escape, unspecified identity.

“Claire’s hunting?” He asked when the C.N. connected in his brain. “Jody said she’d stopped.”

“Jody called asked me to give Claire an easier hunt. Guess Claire’s been stircrazy I sent her on a salt and burn and she found a Trickster.” That sounded familiar. Really familiar.

“And she didn’t know which one?”

“She said it looked like a female, there’s some other notes in the page if you want to check them.”

Ignoring his _‘just leave it alone’_ instincts, he shifted the laptop to look closer at the notes. This one didn’t have a whole lot, but there was a trail of bodies. Four humans were dead, two missing. Even with the things he knew about Tricksters, the rules of their killings, he _couldn’t_ ignore this. These people… there was a good chance that he knew exactly who was responsible. If not Gabriel, then that nephilim he had -probably stupidly- let go. One of which, he knew exactly how to find.

“Have you seen any other Trickster signs since this?”

“Sorry, Sam. I haven’t.” He nodded. Pushing the laptop away and rubbing his temples. “You alright?”

“I have history with a Trickster.” He answered evasively and Garth nodded, the waitress _finally_ returning to their table. It seemed like it had been hours and he was irritable, lifting his head to snap at the woman and freezing when he saw her face.

“Surely you’re not talking about me, doll.”

“You’re a crappy waitress.” He scowled, going for his weapon and falling flat on his ass when the scene suddenly shifted around them.

“I resent that.” Coyotl hummed, settling onto a log across from him and steepling her fingers, grinning widely at him. “I’m a wonderful waitress. You’re just lost in the clouds, missing out on important details that a hunter _shouldn’t_ miss.”

“What’s that mean?” He huffed, getting to his feet and wiping off his jeans. There was no point in attacking her, he could feel that his gun was gone. They were in a small woodsy area, trees towering over them. Casting dark shadows across the area. There was a rustling in the bushes near him, motion from something. Not big, not small.

“Sam Winchester. The Boy King. The Boy With the Demon Blood. The man who lost and regained his soul. _Lucifer’s_ True Vessel,”

“Stop.”

“A Hunter that haunts the nightmares of monsters everywhere and you’re missing the _most obvious thing in the world_.”

A moment passed, then two, then three. Then he realized what it was that he was missing and he stumbled back a step. “You aren’t Coyotl.”

“Afraid not. Though, I must say. I was _really_ interested to learn that Michael had gone and done something so risky.”

“You were- where’s Mom?” He demanded as the visual form he had taken shimmered into a more familiar one. Nick. A name that he couldn’t forget, no matter how hard he’d tried.

 _Lucifer. Lucifer is_ here _. How?_

“Momma Winchester’s fine. For the moment.” His Mom was alive- Lucifer had never lied to him. Not directly. But the word choice was foreboding. _For the moment_.

“What do you want?”

“My son.” He responded, eyes flashing darkly with Grace. His stomach churned but he masked his worry with wariness, watching the devil as he rose to his feet. “My son. That you stole from me. It’s really simple, Sam. You give me him, I won’t slit your Mom’s throat.”

“I don’t- he isn’t with me. Not right now. But I can get him. I just want to see Mom.”

“You don’t trust me, Sam? I’m wounded.”

“I believe that she’s alive,” He admitted. “But knowing you, I need to see _what shape she’s in_.” A smile played on his lips and he waved a hand dramatically, his Mom appearing in Lucifer’s grip. Sam didn’t dare go towards her, the devil holding a glimmering Archangel blade against her throat. Her mouth was covered in ducttape but she seemed to be in decent shape. Her face was bruised, she was breathing rapidly and fighting against his hold much to Lucifer’s amusement.

“Happy?”

Not at all, but he nodded stiffly before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. “I’ve got to call Dean so he can get in touch with Jody.” He lied through his teeth, pressing his phone to his ear after dialing Dean’s number.

_Gabriel, if you can hear me. You said you’d keep an ear out… I need your help. Now. It’s him and he wants Jack._

The prayer was a desperate one, he was almost certain that Gabriel wouldn’t show up and part of him wasn’t really sure he wanted him to. It was just too risky for Gabriel to show his face and there would be no merits for him to show his face now.

If there had been a wall, he could’ve banished Lucifer.

“Sam? Where the hell are you?” His brother’s voice came over the line, rough and tired.

“I’m with Lucifer.” He answered, ignoring the barrage of worried and angry questions that followed. The death threats. “I need you to call Jody and find out where she’s keeping Jack.”

Dean went quiet. The blatant lie seemed to catch him off guard and it only took a few long seconds for his brother to speak again, stress filling the single word. “Sam?”

“He has mom. He wants to exchange them. Mom’s life for Jack.”

“I’ll- I’ll call her. Where are you, Sam?”

“I don’t know.” He told his brother honestly. _I’m sorry, Dean._ He wanted to say instead but couldn’t dare risk Lucifer calling his bluff. “Call me back immediately.” He said quietly, stepping back a bit further from Lucifer.

“You don’t have him, do you?” Lucifer’s eyes were following him, eyes narrowing. “How did you _lose him_?” There wasn’t a chance for him to respond before everything quickly descended into chaos. With a single, clean movement he swapped his grip on his blade and plunged it into Mary’s heart, dropping her to the ground and sending Sam back into a tree with a single flick of his wrist. “I should’ve killed you when I had the chance! You _lost_ my son!”

“Mom!” He fought against Lucifer’s Grace, sending another frantic prayer towards Gabriel that he knew wouldn’t be answered.

“But now… now you don’t deserve death. You’re going to stay there and watch your dear mother die. I’ll let you live, though. You can’t kill me. The key to The Cage is gone, Rowena’s dead. You’re out of chances. I’ve already won, Sammy.” It didn’t take much time before she stopped moving completely and the moment she did, Lucifer disappeared sending him to a heap on the ground. He didn’t hesitate as he scrambled to her side, heart pounding violently as he rolled her over to look at the vacant look in his mother’s eyes.

She was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A familiar face shows up, something that's becoming the norm, and he learns some things. Or does he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the lack of posting. I’ve been in a mood as of late and that mood has not consisted of writing. Here comes another chapter though. Shorter than I'd been hoping for but if I went longer it would've dragged.

Grieving Mom was the harder than he thought it would ever be. Losing Dad had been hard, but there had been just enough detachment- the knowledge that he’d _chosen_ his death, that made it easier.

Their Mom hadn’t had a say in the matter. Lucifer had murdered her in cold blood and all he could do was sit in the Bunker, research every lorebook the Men of Letters ever had on anything even remotely angelic.

There was a time where he would’ve hesitated. He knew it. Hell, Dean probably knew it. A time where he would’ve chosen to trap the devil rather than kill him. Not anymore.

He was going to get his revenge and he didn’t really care how he did it.

Gabriel had Jack and he could deal with an angry Lucifer. They weren’t equipped.

Not yet.

He had decided to go back on the road for Hands of God. There was no way they’d exhausted them all in their hunt for Amara and the Bunker was absolutely _full_ of sources. The translations were a nightmare but he could do them. It would’ve been easier with Cas or even Crowley but he could do them.

Dean wasn’t around. They hadn’t talked since he’d been dropped off at the Bunker. Garth had been texting him, keeping him informed that at the very least Dean was alive.

“This is no way to live.” A voice sounded and he jumped in his chair, head flying up to see a disturbingly familiar face. _She can’t be alive._

“How did you get in?” He asked rather than demanded, the question feeling more instinctual than the other hundred questions he should’ve been asking.

The knife he should’ve been going for sat untouched on the table as she dropped down in the seat in front of him, eyes bright alongside her smile. “That isn’t the question you should be asking, Sammy.” She teased, voice smooth and knowing. Like she had some masterful secret that he wasn’t part of.

“How are you alive?” He asked. It took him longer than he’d admit to anyone for that question to come out. Like the most obvious question was the most difficult thing to ask.

Or he didn’t want the answer.

“I was dead,” She confirmed, easing his own worry about the idea that they _hadn’t_ killed her. The potential that she had survived the knife to the chest. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

“You deserved it. You- ”

“I’m not gonna lie. I did manipulate you. I was a manipulative, conniving, bitch. But, in my defense, I was also being manipulated. Lucifer painted a _beautiful_ picture. For you, for me. I was naïve and for that… I’m sorry, Sam.”

He didn’t want to believe her. He _really_ didn’t want to believe her. There was history, though. Dated, old, and he didn’t know how to take it but it was still there. Even with the haze of the addiction clinging to the memories like a dark fog full of nightmare promises he couldn’t afford to consider too much.

“You haven’t told me how you’re alive.” He pushed again, considering the knife in his belt. He should’ve gone for it. The fact that he hadn’t was a testament to the fact that Dean had been right, that he didn’t need to be alone right now. Of course his brother had also taken off immediately after the argument, but it didn’t change the accuracy.

“I… was granted a favor by someone that wants to restore order.”

“That isn’t _at all_ comforting, Ruby. What does that even mean? _Who_?”

“Her name is Raguel.” The last part was said softly, like a forbidden secret. Like that part was a dark and terrifying truth.

It took him a minute too. After all, it wasn’t overly common knowledge. It wasn’t sitting around in some lore book, Cas hadn’t ever spoken the name. It was from his time possessed. During one of Lucifer’s long, drawn out explanations of the drawbacks of humanity, the flaws and reasons why God was wrong.

A causality.

Raguel was an archangel. But she was dead…

_So was Gabriel._

Raguel, archangel of harmony.

“You’re telling me a dead archangel brought you back?”

“Not dead. Well- mostly not dead. We were in The Empty together. It’s this place that things like me, Castiel… it’s where we go when we die. It’s… not great. At least, not when you’re awake. Most things sleep there. There’s this… creature that torments you if you’re awake. I faded in and out a lot. Then I met this angel. Real nice. She would shelter me, hide me. You wouldn’t believe how much she did for me, Sammy. She… _restored me_.” That was when he saw it. Out of the corner of his eye.

Then he moved, drawing his blade in one sharp motion and throwing himself over the table. The chair teetered back, both of then tumbling to the floor with a loud _crack_ before he plunged her blade into her heart.

Her eyes flashed with a white light, nothing like the dark flood of demonic essence.

They stayed like that for a moment, his whole body covering hers, demon killing knife sticking straight out of her heart. The image in the corner of his eye became clearer, more pronounced. A slight flapping or shifting that he would’ve thought as discomfort if he didn’t know how they worked.

“Now that that’s out in the open, can you get off me?” It took him a minute because all he could do was _stare._ Wings. _Ruby_ had wings. Some part of him wanted to laugh. It wasn’t _possible._ Demons were human, at least the remnants of something sort of human.

“That isn’t possible.” _How_? Sat unsaid as he fought back the urge to touch. It never worked. They weren’t material. But these couldn’t be real.

“As much as I would love to consider this conversation. I really want you to get off of me before I _throw_ you off.”

Surrendering, he climbed off of her, pressing his back against the table and watching as she got to her feet. As though it made a difference, she looked down at the blade still lodged in her chest, slowly wrapping her fingers around it and pulling it from within her heart. There was a dim glow, then the wound as well as the lingering hole in her shirt were gone.

“Ruby.”

“It’s a long story.” She admitted, offering the weapon over to him. He took it, pressing his finger against the sharp metal and watching the blood pool. Real. It was real. So was the annoyed sigh and the fingertips against his forehead before he could stop them. A slight tingle he recognized from the several hunts Cas had helped him on since they became friends. Grace. Undoubtedly, unconditionally, _Grace_.

Ruby was an _angel_.

“Rag and I were close. Like I said. Really close.” She crossed her arms over her chest, expression carefully reserved. “We’d decided we were going to get out. Of course things don’t just get _out_ of The Empty. It’d never been done from what we know, but we wanted out. I mean, _she_ was there willingly. She wasn’t dead. She was hiding. Safest place in Creation as far as she was concerned. Not really dead, but not really alive. Empty and her had an arrangement. If she promised to sleep for a few hundred years at a time, help It get the ones that woke up back to sleep. He’d let her hide out. Not dead. Not alive.”

“So she hid in an afterlife. Guess that’s one way to do it.”

“Oh, yeah. It was clever. Really clever. She was fine with it too. At least, until she met me. When I would wake up… let’s just say, I wasn’t quiet about it.” Turning, she crossed the library. Thumbing at the books. Clearly not reading the covers, just fidgeting. Like she didn’t want to look at him. “I was angry. I’d done everything I was told and he hadn’t saved me when he had the chance. We were supposed to be rewarded, instead I was dead and only God knew what he’d done to you. Believe it or not? I was guilty. I’d left you there. I wanted to know what had happened. Then Rag found me. She was curious, after all. I was talking about her _brother_. So, I explained.”

“How’d she take it?” He was really curious. Raguel was the archangel of harmony and her brothers had singlehandedly jumpstarted the Apocalypse.

“She was upset but she tried to ignore it… at first. She didn’t make me sleep though. She wanted to know more. She was curious about the modern world, what the human race had done in her absence. I didn’t give her the prettiest picture. I was… well, a demon. No matter how human I am, I was a demon. An angry demon. Apparently she read between the lines, picked up on what I meant rather than what I was saying. Eventually, she decided she wanted to come back. Do some righting of things. Fix Heaven, maybe help humanity a bit. Assuming Lucifer lost. Which, by the way. I’m impressed. You two really pulled that one out of nowhere, didn’t you?”

“It wasn’t easy.” He wasn’t going to explain himself. “An archangel decided to crawl her way out of the abyss because you told her that it sucked out here?”

“I can be convincing.” She was smiling smugly when he looked back at her, eyes bright with amusement and he scowled. “What’s wrong, Sammy? I thought you’d be happy to know that your exploits had at least a slightly beneficial outcome to them.”

“I’m not seeing beneficial. I’m seeing a demon turned angel that brought _another_ archangel into the equation.” Her expression flashed with something too quick for him to catch on before she turned her back on him again, entire posture tense. Taking something close to pity on her, he sighed and dropped down in a chair, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands. Anything other than the slight shadows that kept dancing into his vision. It had never been like this with any other angel and he had to wonder if it wasn’t because she was apparently a young angel. _How is this my life?_ “How’d you end up as an angel?”

There was a moment where she was quiet and when he looked up again she was moving across the library, picking up one of the King James versions of the Bible off a shelf and flipping it open. “I didn’t- at first. Time in The Empty, it’s… long. It makes Hell seem like a freaking weekend vacation when it comes to time. Just a couple days in Hell would probably be hundreds in The Empty. I’ve been dead longer than I’ve been alive- or some semblance of alive. I’m sure you and your brother can relate. I didn’t just change her mind overnight- it took _time_. I’m persuasive, but I’m not _that_ good. I was around her enough, though. And when we were close, it was like being next to an open flame. I didn’t spend much time around angels, but Raguel was like being exposed to the sun. She was…” She was getting tenser, the soft sound of paper tearing coming from the book in her hand. She was squeezing the book in her hand. It finally clicked with him, what he’d been blind to since she started talking. Because she was a _demon_. But there it was. Clear as day.

Ruby was heartbroken. What had happened with Raguel? Carefully, he got up. Crossing the room, he pried the book from her fingers with a bit of difficulty. When it was gone, her arms fell to her side and she stared at the floor.

“Beautiful?” He supplied carefully and she laughed, sharp and bitter.

“Putting it mildly. Demon falling for an archangel. Probably never stood a chance, did I?”

“I’ve seen less likely things.” He offered, thinking of Cas. His weird as all hell relationship with Meg. Not-relationship? She definitely cared. Weirdly. The borderline friendship they’d had with Crowley before his death.

“What a world we live in.” She turned her head, looking at him. “I became human. I… was purified. Whether it was The Empty or her? I became human. I’d felt regret for a while, but nothing to the extent that it was there. Because in Hell, there was torture. It was a distraction. Hell wasn’t about redemption. But The Empty wasn’t. There, all we can do is sleep. Dream. Or have nightmares. Depended. I died to regret. And when I was human, _It_ wanted to shove me out. I could’ve gone to Heaven. But I didn’t want to leave her and she didn’t want to let me go.”

“So, she made you an angel.” He summarized and she nodded. “Kinda selfish.”

“The Empty’s like what Purgatory _should_ be. It’s limbo. It’s not bad, it’s not good. It just _is_ and me and Rag, we had plans. We were _going back_. I didn’t want to be some random soul in Heaven when there was a chance that Lucifer was up there wiping them out one by one, or worse, the angels’ version of Heaven. It wasn’t easy, but Raguel managed to turn me into an angel. The Thing that lingers there can’t send a dead angel to Heaven.”

“If she made you an angel, were you dead? Wouldn’t that be like… bringing you back to life?”

“She wasn’t dead.” Ruby reminded him, like it was the most obvious answer in the world. Like he was an idiot for asking the question. And, yeah. He should’ve realized that. But it didn’t answer the question about whether she was still classified as dead or not.

Or she was avoiding the question.

“I wasn’t dead.” She turned then, looking up at him with sad eyes. A smile playing on the corners of her lips. Amusement that was the farthest thing from real. “Until It killed me. The Thing, it didn’t want two angels up and moving around. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t hold up my end, so It killed me. And I slept. I slept for… a _long_ time. I don’t know how long. But then I woke up and I was…” This time the amusement was bitter, but _real_. “I was in Jenks, Oklahoma. Some dickbag policeman shining a light in my eyes, telling me ‘you can’t sleep here, ma’am’ like I was the scum of the Earth. Which… would’ve been fitting at some point.”

That wasn’t where he’d expected that to go. He’d already begun to draw the conclusion that Raguel would’ve found her and woken her up.

“I killed him.” Ruby confessed, continuing on, words jumbling a bit as she rushed through an explanation he wasn’t even going to ask for. Which said a lot about where his head was in that particular moment. “It was an accident, but… y’know. I had all this glowing light shoved into skin that was way too tight and I didn’t really know how to handle it. It’s a miracle no one else was around. I’d had similar issues when I first started possessing, it’s not easy. You don’t fit in the skin you’re borrowing, it’s all… wrong. Thing is, angels aren’t human at all and-“ She stopped when she caught the look on his face. All he could think of was Lucifer, shoved inside him. Pressing against his skin all too well.

_“I told you, Sam. You were created for me. We are one in the same.”_

Gadreel, heavy and awkward. Too much matter pressed into an incorrect space. He had been a bomb and it had been painful. Months of constant discomfort, pain that he hid from Dean because he hadn’t known how his brother would handle the fact that he was _still dying_.

Learning that he’d been possessed, against his will. Even Lucifer had waited until he’d agreed, even when it had been a final move. A desperate attempt to stop him, Lucifer had _made sure_.

“It wasn’t just Lucifer, was it?”

“No.” He couldn’t make himself lie to her. There wasn’t a point. At the moment, the world wasn’t ending. All that stood was revenge now. Finishing what they’d started the moment he’d been stupid enough to kill Lilith all those years ago. “But he’s dead and that’s not what we’re talking about. Why are you alive, Ruby? You haven’t answered that question yet. If you’re helping Raguel, _where_ is she?”

“That’s where things get a little… rougher.” She admitted. “You aren’t stupid, Sam. You’ve got a really good idea of why I’m after her. I _am_ doing her work. I’ve spent the last few weeks in Heaven, talking to the angels there. You know there’s only fifty left?”

_Fifty._

“Well, fifty-one now. But… point is. I’ve talked to them. I’m spreading Raguel’s plans. Harmony. Heaven, Hell, all of it. And angels? We can do this mind meld thing- share every private thought and feeling we’ve ever had. The acting ruler up there, Hurieliel, I let her in. I wanted them to understand the extent. And they do. All of them. So, we’re looking for a way to get Rag back. I’m worried, Sam. Really worried. I think _It_ did something to her… I think she brought me back and it made _It_ made and… well, I’m scared.”

“Because you…” He paused at the look she gave him, the nonverbal warning. Or maybe a plea. “Care. When- _if_ Dean comes back, he’s gonna flip. You know that, right?”

“I’m not staying around long. It’s too much of a risk. I need your help with something. Well, two somethings.”

“I’ve got my own things to deal with. Lucifer-“

“-is in Heaven’s prison.”

“What?”

“I’ll show you later. I promise. He’s contained for now, though. I broke into Michael’s room, rounded up every single ward that he’d ever written down. It’s art and I think you’ll appreciate it when you see it. For now, Lucifer is contained. We’re working on getting him back in The Cage.”

“And you can’t kill him.” Sam realized, Ruby nodding at him with a sad smile.

“Raguel could, but she wouldn’t. All the other archangels are dead, and even if they weren’t… having the extra Grace present in Heaven is helping it more than harming it.”

“Gabriel’s alive.” He blurted, Ruby giving him a weird look. Like that was the last thing she’d ever expected him to say. “He’s… helping with something.”

“Lucifer’s son.” She said without pause, eyes widening. “I’d heard you two had lost the kid, but to _an archangel_? How does that _not_ worry you?”

“Because he helped us save the world?” Sam huffed, shaking his head. “I’m not saying Gabriel’s a saint. Hell, he’s a dick. But at least he’s got humanity’s interest in mind which a whole more more than any of the others did. And it’s not like we can really _force_ him to hand over Lucifer’s potential timebomb.”

“If you talk to him- maybe mention Heaven? We could _really_ use someone that powerful linked up with us right now.” Admittedly, he was pretty sure that listening to Ruby talk about being part of Heaven was the weirdest thing he’d ever heard in his life and that was a really big bar to beat.

“You really are an angel now, aren’t you?”

“I could offer you my blood to prove it but I feel like your brother wouldn’t approve. Which, by the way. He just pulled into the garage.”

“Damn it.” He sighed, rubbing his eyes. “You have Lucifer.”

“He’s contained.” She repeated, “I need you to dig through your books, though. Find something about how to kill or shove him back in The Cage.”

“Wouldn’t Heaven have more information on something like that?”

“That’s funny, Sam. Real funny.” She didn’t look in the least bit amused and it registered pretty quickly what she was mocking him about. If they’d been able to open The Cage, they wouldn’t have needed him and Dean to do it. “You need sleep. Not coffee. Actual _sleep_.”

He collapsed onto his back when his surroundings changed in a sudden _whoosh_. It had been a long time since Cas had been able to fly and the sensation was something he wasn’t at all accustomed to anymore. The ground fell from under his feet and he bounced a bit as he landed against the soft mattress of his room.

“Ten hours will do you some good. Remember. I need a way to get in The Cage that doesn’t let Michael out. Only God knows what shape he’s in,” Then she pressed two fingers against his forehead and he was engulfed in blissful sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean comes back to the bunker and is nearly shot. Jack and Gabriel do a bit of bonding.

Dean stepped into the bunker, dropping the bags of beer, coffee, pie, and salad he’d decided to grab as bribing material on the wartable before making his way to the library in hopes of getting Sam to take a break.

Sam wasn’t there. There was a moment that he almost panicked before he concluded- no, _hoped_ his brother had actually finally slept. They were both able to live on limited sleep but Sam had been pushing it further than they usually did. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his brother sleep.

And yeah, he was miserable. Losing mom… it sucked. But after Lucifer-

Well, he’d already been grieving. Sam had apparently been right and Dean wanted nothing more than to shove a blade so far into Lucifer’s heart it came out the other side. Cas was gone. Mom was gone. His spawn was apparently with Gabriel and no matter how many times he’d tried, Gabriel wasn’t showing up for summonings. There were no more obvious signs of anything besides the occasional ghost and werewolf. Even the serial killers had gone into hiding which really sucked because he wouldn’t mind beating the crap out of some piece of shit human before shoving him into the arms of law enforcement.

Yeah, he missed them. But he was also too worried about Sam to let himself fall apart.

When he made it to his brother’s room, he found that yes, Sam was unconscious. He was splayed out across the mattress like he’d sat down and passed out. Probably had. Sighing deeply to himself, he crossed the room and struggled a bit to rotate the dead weight of his unconscious brother around so that he was at least laying on his back. Satisfied with that, he made his way back out and walked down the empty halls.

“Dean.”

He ignored her voice at first, settling for gathering the bags and carrying them into the kitchen. She was there. Sitting on the counter. Watching him.

“Don’t you have better things to do?”

“I think that we both know better.” Meg mused, smiling faintly and he scowled. Grabbing one of the beers, he chugged it and made his way back towards his room. “I’m surprised you haven’t told Sam.”

“Told him what? That I’m half-possessed by a ghost-demon? No thanks. We’ve got more important things on our plates than a little nuisance like you.”

“That’s cold. I died for you, you know.”

“It’s the reality of the situation.” He countered, shoving the door to his room open and stepping through the salt circle he’d taken to planting on his door frame. A small puff whooshed past him as she was shoved out of his body, inky black form manifesting at the foot of his bed.

“That was rude.”

“So is possession. So, how about you do us both a favor and go back to Hell?”

“Are you kidding me? It’s a nightmare down there. Hell’s the _last_ place I want to be. No order. No law. No one liked Crowley, sure. I tried to kill him. Multiple times. But at least he had plans. He kept things _functional_.”

“Go possess someone else. Harass them.” He popped the top off and took a swig of his drink, collapsing onto the mattress and grinning in minor satisfaction when she disappeared from where she’d been, standing beneath the TV he’d mounted to his wall.

“Can’t. Trust me. You think I want to be here? This is its own type of Hell. But it’s still better than actually being there.”

Which was probably true considering he’d tried to kill her in every single way he knew how to kill a demon or an angel. Hell, he’d used an _angel blade_ and it hadn’t done anything. If they still had The Colt, he would’ve thrown away any reservations and shot her just to see if it would work. Unfortunately, they didn’t and as far as the both of them could tell. She couldn’t die. Which sucked.

“Then we’ve got to set up some ground rules.” Just as he said it there was a slight rush of wind and she was gone again.

Well, not gone. Definitely still there. He was her anchor unfortunately and whenever she dissipated, she ended up stuck…

To him. Yeah. That sounded way less invasive if he didn’t think too hard about the whole possession shtick. It had been about two months since she first showed up and at first, he’d thought it was some bizarre hallucination.

Yeah, not so lucky. Meg had explained that after Crowley killed her she’d… well, the reapers had refused to take her anywhere. Something about her soul not being right for anything except The Veil. Which apparently had ended with her hiding in Hell. Until Crowley died and Lucifer disappeared and everything exploded. Which also explained the major lack of demon activity. There was a massive power struggle down there. Which, hey. If demons weren’t up on the Earth he’d call that a win in his books. Unfortunately, Meg hadn’t taken too well to the fight because she wasn’t technically a demon and bolted.

Apparently, she’d planned to tether herself to the Impala but missed. Which absolutely sucked for him. He hated it. But it was at least mutual. She didn’t expect him to be friendly with her. She didn’t even expect him to resolve the problem. They both also theorized he couldn’t die while she was… possessing him. Not that he was going to dare to test it. But it was a nice backup plan.

At some point he dozed off, waking up to the sounds of a gun firing. He didn’t wait, jumping up from the bed with his gun in hand as he bolted down the hall towards the source. Another shot fired off and he recoiled at the bullet that had gone straight through Sam’s wall, flying past him far too close for comfort.

“Sam!” He shouted, flinging open the door just in time to see his brother aiming a gun in his direction.

The room was empty.

He didn’t think as he threw his hands up, warning bells firing off in his head. Sam stared at him, eyes wide. Hands shaking.

“Sam- put the gun down.”

There was a moment where Sam hesitated, then he did. He was half crouched on the bed, eyes flicking across his room carefully. Like there was something there. Someone planning to jump out of nowhere. But he set the gun down on the mattress and Dean pulled his arms down. He kept his weapon armed -just in case- and made his way to the bed. He hadn’t seen that look in a long time and he suspected he knew what it was.

“I- it was _him_.” Sam stuttered out. “It had to be.” It didn’t pass his notice that Sam dug his thumb into his hand. An act Dean hadn’t seen since…

Since before he went to Purgatory.

“Lucifer.”

“Yes.” Sam had no doubt in his tone, the anger that had been broiling beneath the surface since the incident with their Mom came back full force. “He’s taunting me.”

“Even if he is. Even if it wasn’t just some bad dream- you can’t let yourself burn out. You _can’t_.”

“He wasn’t really here.” Sam continued on, still sounding dead set certain.

“Sam?”

“He’s in Heaven. In their prison. An angel showed up here yesterday, let me know he was contained for now. They want us to find a way back into The Cage.”

“You’re serious?”

“Yes.” Sam moved then, getting to his feet. “I’m going to kill him.”

“Sam-“

“We have to.” He was on the absolute wrong side of this conversation. Sam had been talking him down from a reckless mission just a bit over a month ago. This same blind potentially suicidal mission. And he didn’t have a good reason to give him. Lucifer had killed Cas. Killed Mom. If they could get their revenge, why shouldn’t they? If Lucifer was _actually_ in Heaven? Why wouldn’t they go after him?

Besides, Dean _really_ needed to know if this was true. Did Heaven have Lucifer? Or were they just sending him on a goose chase.

“How are we going to do this?”

“I found a spell about a week ago.” Sam admitted, making his way for the door.

And yeah. This was definitely not a really well thought through plan. But at this point… it was worth trying.  

 

*** • * • * • * • ***

 

Jack frowned at the book in front of him. “This says you told Mary she would bear the son of God. Why?”

“Because she was pure.” Gabriel answered very seriously, sitting down in front of him and pushing a piece of cake between them. “You haven’t asked me about Lucifer in a while.”

“You don’t answer my questions about my father.” Jack countered, thinking of the words he had read about Lucifer. The Devil. He was apparently evil. When he would ask Gabriel if that made him evil as well, she would shake her head. Go on some long explanation about how people weren’t what their parents were. It was frustrating and he wanted to find his father.

“That’s not true.”

“You don’t give me new answers about my father.” He said instead and a smile played on Gabriel’s lips as she began to eat at her cake. “It is always the same conversation. I don’t see a reason to have it if you refuse to help me.”

“I _am_ helping you, kiddo.” Jack didn’t answer, looking towards the bookshelf. His eyes scanned the books until he saw the one that he wanted. With a bit of difficulty, he managed to make the book fly across the room. Gabriel caught it, of course, when it flew at her head.

“I didn’t tell you to read these.” Her expression was guarded when she twisted the book around, reading the front cover. _Mystery Spot._

“You also didn’t tell me not to. I was curious. Why did you not tell me you were in these books?”

“Because I’m not. Yeah, this is real. But I’m not The Trickster.” A wave of her hands and the book caught fire, Jack putting it out before the whole thing could go to ash. “You’re getting better at that.”

“You’re lying. Are these Sam and Deans the same ones you told me to stay away from?”

“Yes. They are.” Gabriel sighed softly, rubbing her eyes before picking up the book again. “They’re Hunters, Jack. They’ve already tried to kill you once and they will try again.”

“I never did anything to them.”

“Neither did I. Not until they pushed me.”

One of the other books appeared in front of him and he looked at the cover. _Tall Tales_. Gabriel disappeared then, returning an hour later around the time he read the final page. It hadn’t cleared anything up.

“They tried to kill you because you killed those people.”

“One,” Gabriel held up her hand, one finger pointing upwards, the rest firmly set against her palm, gaze set firmly on him. “I only killed two of them.” That finger became two. “Two, there is a difference in killing Jack. There is justifiable murder, and there isn’t. What I did there wasn’t murder. It was punishment.”

“Punishment?”

“Yes. When someone does something bad,” She put her hands down on the edge of the table, leaning forward to watch him. “They deserve to be punished.”

“What about when you do something bad?”

A sad look crossed Gabriel’s face then, a bitter smile turning up the corner of her mouth. “I’m punished every day, little one. Every moment I spend on Earth, away from The Host. It is punishment. The little things I do as Loki are my reward. I’m alone. I’m old and alone with no one that wants me around. Not even you.”

“So…” Jack paused, processing that information. “You are punished by not being in Heaven, so your reward is killing or harming people that harm others?”

“Correct.”

“But Sam and Dean believed you were evil.”

“That’s because Hunters are simple creatures, Jackie boy.” She moved, shifting. Rolling her shoulders. Jack wished he could see her wings but she never showed them. “Hunters think that anything that isn’t human is evil and therefore, should die.”

“Which is why you want me to stay away from them.”

“Yes.”

“You tried to kill them, though.” Jack frowned. Still not grasping it. Why would she try to kill them if she could just run away?

“Sometimes the ones that deserve to die are people with good intentions. Good people can do bad things while trying to be good.”

Biting his cheek, he closed the book.

“I tried to kill them because they tried to kill me. Yes, I could have gotten away. I could have run. But they chose that fight. They needed to be punished for their stupidity.”

“Even if it killed you?”

“They couldn’t have killed me.” Gabriel countered which didn’t help him at all. Gabriel’s logic wasn’t logical. Her reasonings didn’t connect, they countered each other. It was just more of the same things he had been going through with her since the beginning. Answers that brought on more questions. Evasion of the entire topic by shifting the topic to something else. It was beginning to bother him. Gabriel claimed to be helping him but she wasn’t giving him what he wanted. In fact, she had been avoiding helping him since the last time they had gone to heal those humans. Something had changed. Yet, Jack didn’t know enough about his aunt to know exactly what that was.

So he asked, “Why do you refuse to help me?”

“I do-“

“No. Everything that I have learned over the last…” He paused, trying to connect the time to a human reference. Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks. The knowledge was there, gifted to him by his mother. It had been… “Over the last month.” He said at last, Gabriel watching him with cautious eyes. “You have been unhelpful. Everything I have learned in that time has been me.”

“And what does that teach you?” Gabriel countered, dropping down into the recliner and crossing her arms over her chest, an eyebrow lifted.

“That you are being unhelpful?” Jack asked very seriously and Gabriel rolled her eyes.

“No. It’s teaching you that you _don’t_ need me to teach you. You aren’t my first prodigy, you know? I learned with your cousin pretty quick that you just can’t _force_ nephilim to be anything. You’ve got to figure some if out on your own.”

“You…” He paused, trying to find the words to describe what he was thinking. “You taught me the basics. So I could find my own way?”

“Yep.”

“So, you aren’t trying to train me. You’re just trying to help me understand my powers.” Pausing, he frowned. “So you can leave.”

“I’m not kicking you to the curb, kid. I want you around. But, yeah. It will be nice when you have enough of an understanding of your powers that you don’t need to ask me every five minutes. I can’t tell you everything, I can just lead you in the right direction.”

“What if I chose to use my new understandings to find my father?”

“Then I would wish you the best of luck. I don’t hate Lucifer, you know? He _is_ my brother.”

Brother. Sister. The way that Gabriel said it always had a detachment. The books he read never seemed to capture siblings in that way. Especially the _Supernatural_ series. It relied heavily on the _attachment_ between siblings. But Gabriel didn’t want to see his brother, he didn’t want to talk to or about him. There was an almost anger to it.

“I don’t understand.” Jack finally said, “You call him brother but you also don’t act like you care about him. You act like…” Frowning, he stared at the table. “Like he is bad. Like the Bible portrays him as what he is. Evil.”

“Lucifer isn’t evil.” Gabriel was quick to correct him, “Things are never that simple, Jack. You aren’t evil, I’m not evil, even the damned Winchesters aren’t evil. We are all embodiments of shades of grey in morality. We just try our best to be what we want to be. Lucifer is complicated. He’s _always_ been complicated.”

“If you don’t think he’s evil, why do you not want me to meet him?”

“I never said I don’t want you to meet him. He’s in another dimension, Jack. He isn’t here.”

“Yes, he is.” They had gone through this before. He knew they had.

“It isn’t possible. There is nothing short of yourself and God that could do it.” Now Gabriel seemed annoyed, like she always was when they got too far into a discussion about Lucifer. He was sure she didn’t want him to meet his Father but there was never a clear answer on the why. If she truly thought Lucifer was evil, he didn’t think she would keep it to herself. Which meant there was some other motivations behind it.

“I want to go heal someone.” He finally said, stretching his wings behind him and staring at the empty space behind Gabriel for a moment before looking at her. “That is what I want to do with my powers today.”

“Wanna play superhero? I really shouldn’t, but fine. I’ll take you to this hospital in England. Keep you off the radar of any Hunters. Sound good?” Already, she was rising out of the recliner, stretching.

“Yes.” He conceded, rising to his feet. “Can I see your wings?”

Pursing her lips, Gabriel watched him for a long moment before the space behind her seemed to warp. Two appendages came into view very slowly. They were much like his own, the same size and shape. Feathers soft and unkempt. Out of reflex more than anything he slipped to the other side of the table to reach out, touch the soft underside and stroke against the loose feathers. Break them free. Gabriel breathed deeply, a teardrop forming in the corner of her eye as she rested a hand on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Why do you not care for them?” He asked instead, still moving his fingers across the royal blue feathers, light catching against them gently. A couple of the loose feathers fell from beneath his fingertips, dissipating in a flash of grace as they floated towards the floor.

“Because… it’s pointless.” She finally said, still spreading her wings further out to give him more access. He relaxed as she finally returned the gesture. Touching his wings with the same gentle pressure he had used on her. “Angels aren’t meant to take care of their own wings.”

“But you aren’t alone anymore.” He reminded her, stretching his own out as he finished brushing away the loose ones. Straightening them. Blue. For some reason he had thought they would be brighter but much like his own crimson ones, they were dark. Reflecting in the light of the room just enough to make him aware of the way they shone. A light pulse of grace glimmered beneath the surface and he breathed deeply, looking towards the floor.

“It’s hard to remember that sometimes. I’ve been alone for… a very long time.” She murmured, turning around to give him access to the even more unkempt back. Jack didn’t want to consider his own. “Recognizing that I’m not is more difficult than I thought it ever would be.”

“All you have to do is ask me.” He told her, adjusting even more feathers. “I am here for you.”

“Family.” Gabriel said, drawing her wings back in and turning around. “Jack, I am going to tell you something. Something you must never repeat. Can you do this for me?”

“I don’t know anyone else.” Jack answered and Gabriel nodded, satisfied with his answer, she took a step back.

“Since the day of my creation… I have never felt accepted. I have never belonged. I was always different, always… denied. I helped you because I don’t want you to feel like that. Know that even when I am being an unhelpful ass, I do it to make you feel accepted.”

“What about my cousin?”

“She… didn’t want that from me. I offered this to her as well and she rejected it.”

“If she came back, would you accept her?”

“I’d like to think so, yeah.” She responded, wings disappearing completely from his view. “But she’s not going to. I don’t want to talk about it either. You want to go heal? We will go heal. You have to keep your identity a secret, though. You can’t tell people you’re a nephilim.”

“Can I tell them my name?”

“I would prefer if you didn’t speak to them at all.” Gabriel sighed, shaking her head. “But you’ve already made it clear that you won’t listen to that request. Fine. Don’t say Jack, though. Tell them you’re Michael.”

“Michael.” Jack repeated, thinking back on his reading of the Bible and the very little information Gabriel had shared about the Archangels. “Why?”

“Because he’s rotting in The Cage and if it gets back to Heaven it’ll confuse the ever-living hell out of them.” With a satisfied smile, Gabriel met his gaze. Then they were flying.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I hope this chapter came out decently. I’m kinda in the middle of being sick and not sick. It’s rough. I have plans that I want to unwind and I can’t yet.
> 
> Also, I like comments. I like answering comments. Feel free to leave comments. Feel free to stab me. I always accept these things.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer convinces the angels to let him go and he goes to meet with an old acquaintance who shares some information that she has stored.

It took longer than he’d expected for Lucifer to finally break out of the first of the wards confining him. The moment he did, he understood the why. It wasn’t anything simple, most of the containment sigils older than any of the angels in Heaven could possibly know. But the second that he broke the ones restraining his vessel, he was able to see through the illusion.

He wasn’t on Earth. His gaze skimmed the heavensteel bars that lined the wall in front of him, the glittering marblelike material of the walls fading through what had once been the ugly warehouse walls. Heaven. He was in _Heaven_. How had a demon brought him to _Heaven_?

“Let me out of here!” He shouted, kicking at the bars. “I know you’re out there! All of you! Let me out! If you think for a _moment_ that this will end well for you, you are all sorely mistaken! Release me!”

It was a solid ten minutes of shouting before an angel came into view, wings tucked close to its back and gaze ducked to the ground anxiously.

“Release me.” He ordered it, “Now.”

“I’m sorry, Lucifer.” The angel didn’t sound at all sorry. “We cannot.”

“What do you _mean_ you can’t?”

“We’ve been ordered not to do anything that you say because you are a threat to the sanctity of Heaven and its people.”

“Ordered? Do I need to remind you who I am?” The angel flinched back at the harsh tone he used but didn’t make a move to open the cell.

“The orders came from someone above you. Someone we trust far more than we will ever trust you. Father may have forgiven your transgressions when the Darkness came to destroy Everything but Father is not us. You are not forgiven.”

“I can’t decide whether I’m proud of you for finally growing backbones or if you’re all fools. I am the final Archangel. Michael is in Hell, my brothers are dead. Whatever angel it is that’s posing as them? You’re all fools for falling into their trap.”

“Not a brother. A sister. The first sister.”

“Raguel has been dead since before most of you were alive. Michael _struck her from Heaven_ after she betrayed him.”

“A lie. Brendiel has gone through all of the libraries, the first stories written in the old language. In _Metatron's_ writing. God’s words written into history for all of Heaven to read. Raguel left Heaven to The Empty. To join The Shadow. Because Heaven was no longer in balance.”

“You want the truth?” He asked, feeling sour and bitter that God had justified her leaving so simply. Made her a hurt martyr while he remained the villain of His own making. He pressed against the bars, eyes narrowing as the young angel wisely took a step back. “You are right. Raguel did leave. But not because she was hurt by the fighting. My sister left because she strayed from the path of God. Our _Father_ told her to follow Him, or join The Shadow. So she joined The Shadow. Raguel won’t help you. Raguel doesn’t believe in Heaven or God’s plan any more than I do. The difference is, you’re my brothers and sisters. I’ve fought you for years. I know you enough to understand you. She knows nothing of any of you and she _doesn’t care_. She will tear down Dad’s empire before ever making a move to help any of you and if you think I’m wrong then I hope you’re right because if it matches her idealistic 'balance' she won’t hesitate to kill you or any of the others. The difference between us is far more significant than you can truly comprehend because she isn’t your sister. But she is mine.”

The angel was trembling in spite of itself, wings puffed out even as they curled into his back. “Her promises are far better than any you have ever made.” The words were so soft he almost didn’t catch them, didn’t hear them.

“I swear on my Grace, promise you and every angel in Heaven that if you release me, I won’t harm a single angel as long as it doesn’t try to harm me. I won’t kill another angel because there isn’t a point. That is the promise I make. And if you leave me here? You’ll wish you’d taken me serious now.” He wasn’t speaking to one angel. He could feel hundreds of eyes staring back at him through the brother that had come to speak with him. Possibly the entire Host, or whatever was left of it.

“No angels.”

“Not you or Brendiel or even the damned gate guard. I want to get to Earth and I want to find my son.”

The angel contemplated him for several long moments and he began to expect he’d be called a liar again. The Host to refuse his offer. He was the Serpent. The Snake. The first of the Fallen. Instead, a careful demeanor replaced the fearful one.  “We will release you.”

Maybe he hadn’t given them enough credit.

“There are no angels on Earth at this moment. Only one that visits it. We are trusting you, Lucifer. I hope that you keep your word.” Lucifer watched as an ancient key ring appeared in the angel’s hand, “Some of Heaven still remembers a time when you kept your word. When you never lied.”

“I never lied. Not until Father used me.”

The angel said nothing as he turned the key in the lock, drawing his angel blade and cutting into the heavy wards confining him to his cell.

Lucifer watched the angel take several long steps back before Lucifer emerged from his cell.

“If you see my son, hear anything, let me know.” Lucifer was careful when he reached out to brush his wings over the younger one's, repairing the lingering damage from the Fall. Passing the knowledge of how to do so onto him. “Raguel won’t have Heaven’s interest in mind. I’m not claiming that I do, but she is not a hero or a savior. She is the Archangel of balance and she left before time existed.”

“We trust her.” The angel insisted, tone and demeanor radiating gratitude and confusion. “I hope we were right in trusting you. Thank you, Lucifer.”

“I am not the enemy.”

“You aren’t an ally either.” The angel smiled then, a look of amusement crossing his face. “And, Lucifer. I am Brendiel.”

“Of course you are.” Lucifer felt like a fool. How had he failed to recognize Heaven’s librarian? Wings softer and smaller than any in Heaven. Gabriel had played with him when they were younger, dropped him while he was still nothing but energy. Michael had punished Gabriel and God had assigned him to keep the book, dubbing him unworthy of anything important.

Without another word, Lucifer nodded to the young angel before traveling down to Earth.

_Free._

Much to his dismay, he found he could not sense his son. Wherever he was, he was clearly hidden. The obvious answer was the Winchesters. Which lead him straight into the Bunker. It was quiet, as it usually was, and appeared to be empty. Not a single person in sight. He scanned every floor, every level. There wasn’t a single indication that his son was or ever had been there. The books in the library were open on old documentation about Archangels, summonings and weaknesses. Mostly inaccurate but also slightly peculiar. As far as Sam and Dean were concerned, he was in the other reality.

Unless…

 _'Mary Winchester.’_ He sent to Brendiel.

_'Returned to Earth. We aren’t seeking a war with Winchesters. It would be beneficial if you didn’t start one.’_

_'The demon that captured me. Where is she?'_

_'The demon is gone.’_ Another angel answered, _'Check Hell’s throne. If she was bold enough to bring you to us, she may be bold enough to steal your seat.’_ Which was a reasonable answer except the throne was empty and Hell was in chaos. He didn’t bother with the angels again. Instead, he stepped back from his vessel, shutting his eyes and pulling at the threads of time, drawing back on the tapestry. Skirting the familiar lifeline of Sam Winchester. One day turned to two to a week.

He was invisible as he watched Sam slam a book onto the table.

_“Sam, this isn’t healthy.”_

_“That’s funny.”_

_“No, it’s not. Damn it, Sam. I know you watched her die and I’m sorry. I am. But we’ve been through these books a thousand times. If there was a way to summon Lucifer and kill him? I’d be right by your side. But there’s not an easy way. There’s the hard way and we’ll get it when we get it.”_

_“When, Dean? We’ve been tracking him for months and the closest we’ve ever gotten to a win was me goin' in the Cage with him.”_

_“Not an option. We’ll deal with it, Sammy. We will. But you’ve gotta get out of here for a while.”_

Dean Winchester being the voice of reason. Lucifer almost laughed. The problem, of course, was that he couldn’t. Because they were talking about him. Revenge against him.

“ _…watched her die…”_   Sam had watched Mary Winchester die. Which meant that Ruby had killed her while hiding behind his face. Some low rate transformation spell no doubt. But it left him in a worse position with the brothers than he had been in quite some time. His leverage had been turned into a weapon against him.

Where was his son? If he had never stepped foot in the Bunker, where was he?

The two continued bickering for another five minutes before Lucifer concluded they weren’t going to be of use and he stepped back, following the thread forward again to the present. The Bunker was still empty and the reason became clear rather quickly when he tapped into Angel Radio. The brothers were in Heaven. Looking for him.

Well, he knew where he wasn’t going.

The second place he stopped was a small bar outside of all points nowhere. The bartender had a broad smile on her face as she flirted with the patron in front of her. She was tall and bulky, a trucker no doubt, with dark cropped hair and a heavy build that would likely intimidate any man stupid enough to try to pick a fight with her.

“I heard you were dead.” Winter told him after leaving the woman at the table.

“Killing me takes more than shoving me through an interdimensional gateway.”

“I suppose you want this kept quiet for the moment.” Winter mused, crossing her arms and leaning over the bar. She was lean, tall. Deceptively vulnerable.

“Let them keep killing each other. If Hell is in chaos, they aren’t after my son.”

“Ah, yes. The nephilim.” The demon’s eyes flicked orange for a moment before returning to their icy blue.

“Where is he?”

“I’m afraid even I can’t see that. The Winchesters lost him the day he was born.”

“Millions of eyes and you can’t see him?”

“Wherever he is, the ravens don’t fly.”

Lucifer groaned, falling into one of the barstools. “What about angels? Are the last of them really in Heaven?”

Her eyes flicked back to orange. Rapidly blinking, she tilted her head. “Three are on Earth. One guards Heaven’s entrance. It is currently drunkenly arguing with Sam and Dean Winchester. One is… playing fetch with a human child and dog? The other… just disappeared.”

“They probably flew. I returned their wings.”

“Bold.”

“We’re a dying breed. What about Michael and Gabriel’s secret?”

“I haven’t seen her in months. She keeps a low profile. Do you think she would have taken your spawn?”

“I don’t see her risking the exposure but it’s worth keeping your eyes on her.”

“I’ve only ever been able to find her once.”

“Winter.”

“Yeah, yeah. Your wish is my command. Always has been, Lord Lucifer.”

“You could say that like you mean it.”

“I’m the last of your eyes and ears on this damned planet. I’ll pretend I mean it when I think you actually give a damn about your loyal followers.”

“And you’re a loyal follower?”

“I would like to think I am considering how much I’ve done for you since your Fall.” There wasn’t arrogance to those words. Winter wasn’t an arrogant demon. She didn’t think she was better than anything, she respected power and comprehended things in a way that no other demon grasped. It was that knowledge as well as the power she wielded that kept him from smiting her on the spot. “If you want to find your son, you need to remember that he’s not just an angel. He may follow the more human inclinations.”

“Have you seen him?” Lucifer asked instead and Winter nodded, meeting his gaze.

“He is human in appearance. Average male height. Dark hair… Would you smite me if I said he was attractive?” The look he gave her was enough. “Fine. He’s ugly as a molerat. His soul shines bright. Pure. I could see your Grace muddled into it.”

“Was it tainted?” The question came before he realized he was asking it. It threw him off when he realized he actually _did_ care. He _wanted_ the answer to be no. Because if it was yes, his son was just as screwed as he was. Messed up from the start.

“Ravens only see so much. I can only see so much. But from my viewpoint, it seemed… clean. There may have been greying but it could have been a number of things.”

“And how long ago was this? Where was he at?”

“Eastern Kansas a month ago. I saw through a hospital window. He was healing humans.”

Well, that could be resolved at a later date. If he was alone, he would probably still be in the area. There was no reason for him to migrate far. It was instinct and whatever his mother had embedded in his brain before his bird that were his driving factors at the moment. There was even a chance that he was searching for his father.

“’ey, can I get another?” The woman down the bar called out and Winter’s mouth curled up as she turned her attention from him to help the human woman. It gave him more than enough time to gather his thoughts. Formulate a plan.

“Keep your eyes open. I also need you to find the demon Ruby. I believe her human name was Siobhan.” Lucifer added when Winter returned to him, reluctance clear in her posture.

“She was killed by the eldest Winchester.”

“Yeah, well someone brought her back. I’ve got some serious plans for her the next time I see her.”

“I was under the assumption that only Archangels could resurrect a shredded soul.”

“Just because it can be done, it does not mean it is done. My brothers are dead and in Hell. Which means one of two things. The first is that Michael’s little secret is scheming. Bringing back dead demons and using them as leverage. The other goes with something an angel told me. That my sister has come back from wherever she buried herself.”

“Your sister?”

“The fifth Archangel. Not overly acknowledged because she has been gone since the Dawn.” He paused. “Watch for Archangel Grace as well. Just in case. I’d rather not see her slaughter all of Heaven.”

“Very well.” Shifting anxiously, she looked back towards the other woman. “Can I go now?”

Rolling his eyes, Lucifer pushed off of the stool. “You know how to reach me.”

“I do. Goodbye, Lucifer.” Lucifer took off then, wings spread wide behind him as he took flight towards Kansas. As he flew, he listened to Angel Radio. Sam had pulled a blade on Naomi, Dean was shouting something about her being a bitch. The angels that were there were mostly docile. Tired.

Afraid.

Lucifer cut off in his flight for Earth, landing in one of Heaven’s many hallways, invisible.

“You can kill me. Kill all of us. But once we’re gone, who is left to run Heaven? Keep the souls in order? Angels are a dying breed.”

“Can’t you just… _make more_?”

“We aren’t human.” Aremediel scoffed, Naomi stepping back when Sam withdrew the blade.

“No angel has been created since Heaven was. If there is a way, we don’t know what it is.”

“Can’t you make an Archangel help you?”

“As we already told you. Lucifer escaped. Courtesy of you, Michael is imprisoned. And both Gabriel and Raphael are dead.”

“Gabriel’s alive.” Dean said after a moment of quiet. Not sympathetic. Just annoyed. Like the angels wanting their siblings was a crime a Winchester couldn’t possibly relate to.

Though he had to wonder what was going through their heads. Gabriel was dead. He had… well, it had been a different time. And he was more than willing to admit his regrets that his brother hadn’t been more reasonable.

“Lucifer killed Gabriel during the Apocalypse.”

“Yeah, well he- she grabbed up Lucifer’s kid. So there you go. Gabriel’s a lying piece of trash too.”

“Dean.”

“Since you apparently lost the Devil, we’re leaving.”

None of the angels stopped them as an angry Dean dragged Sam to the physical doorway to Heaven. Silence, complete and firm fell across Angel Radio for the first time since it was first born.

“Gabriel is dead.” Lucifer said quietly, coming into view at last.

“You aren’t supposed to be here.”

Lucifer ignored that angel, looking around the remaining group. Tiny. So very tiny. “I can’t tell you how to make more angels. Even if she was alive, Gabriel wouldn’t be able to help. That is one of Dad’s miracles.”

“But?” One of the angels prompted and Lucifer grimaced, looking across them all.

“Heaven needs Grace to run at full capacity. So go make some more Grace.”

“Your suggestion is nephilim? Are you out of your mind?”

“I’ve been told that before. If none of you trusted my judgement at least slightly, I would still be sitting in that cell. Nephilim carry Grace and Heaven needs it. You can rest on hope that my sister returns, that Gabriel still lives despite the fact that I have no doubt in my mind that she is dead, or you can take this suggestion. My Grace will never power Heaven. I was cast out by our dear old Dad. But nephilim are different and they have Grace. Make a few, maybe rip the soul bit off their Grace. Perfect little homegrown abominations masquerading as angels.”

“What will you do with yours?”

“Have to find him first.” Lucifer admitted with a shrug. “Like I said, though. Dad’s gone. Either Heaven will die, or you’ve got to figure out an alternative that doesn’t involve His help.”

“If Gabriel is alive,” Naomi said carefully. “If you _are_ wrong about her death. Tell her to come home. Tell her we need her.”

“I’m _not_ wrong. But fine. If I see my dead sister, I’ll tell her to come up and help keep Heaven running. Hell’s in chaos so the Earth is ripe for the picking.”

“And you condone the creation of these abominations?”

“I made one, didn’t I? Michael, Raphael, and Dad are gone. Time for you kids to start figuring out how to make your own bad choices _without_ slaughtering your brothers and sisters. Either that, or leave me as the last living angel.” With those final words, Lucifer spread his wings and left Heaven. Gabriel wasn’t alive. Couldn’t be alive. Lucifer remembered every vivid detail of his sister’s angelic form burning up. Flames licking up across feathers and wings, shredding every inch of her entire being. Gabriel _was_ dead.

But the Winchesters were also clearly under the impression that she was alive. It meant one of two things. The first, Gabriel was alive. It was impossible, but it was one of two options. Somehow she had completely burnt up her form, left herself weak enough that Lucifer hadn’t been able to detect her presence on the Earth at all since his return to the surface. While he believed she could cloak herself, knew she had done it before, he didn’t buy that she’d pulled off a fake death to that extent. Their Grace was far too complex for even Gabriel to be able to fake that.

Which meant that the second option was the answer. Someone was faking that they were Gabriel. Something powerful enough to feign the powers of an Archangel.

Or the brothers were losing their touch. Swallowed whole by their grief and need for revenge. In which case, they’d stupidly let some demon or some other beast take off with his son. With one of the most powerful creatures in existence. They could be complete idiots but Lucifer really doubted they would make that big of a mistake. They weren’t _that_ stupid.

At least that was what he hoped as he returned to his path to Kansas. Maybe if he was closer, he would be able to find him.

**Author's Note:**

> In my Twitter account [@IAmFayTheGay](https://twitter.com/iamfaythegay) you can follow for updates on all things to do with my writing and all that. It’s focused on that so you can find the information there. 
> 
> Also, I have been dabbling music edits for SPN which exist under [The Archangel of Life](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCnPTsdSg6xfJDFhEvzMJ5qA) on YouTube 
> 
> If you have ever heard of the Discord app then awesome, if you haven't, then you should get it. Technically it's directed at gamers but I created a community on it for SPN fans. The permanent invite is [HERE](https://discord.gg/5UnfnzU). Hope to see you there!


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